


The Strange Tides of the Spacetime Continuum

by scarscarchurro



Series: Doctor Who AU [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Canonical Character Death, Character "death", Everyone is Trans until proven otherwise, Gen, I'm not comfortable going too into those things so they will always be implied, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Jocelyn/McCoy - Freeform, Past Relationship(s), Slow Build, Swearing, Tarsus IV, That tag will make sense eventually haha, The doctor who au no one asked for, Underage Drinking, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, alien ocs - Freeform, in the future, mentioned emotional abuse, more characters to be added as time goes on, most warnings will be before every chapter in the notes, or mentioned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-17
Updated: 2019-03-11
Packaged: 2019-08-03 15:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16328435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarscarchurro/pseuds/scarscarchurro
Summary: Time travelers meet a lot of people and sometimes it isn't even in the right order.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> *finger guns* Ah yes. Putting a major project on my writing plate. 
> 
> Warnings: Anyways there is some character "death" in the beginning of this and you'll understand that eventually. This also takes place on Tarsus IV. At least this first chapter does. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Some library at the end of the universe. 

That wasn’t exactly where the Doctor had imagined himself dying.

At least he should be dead. He should be very dead and regenerating, but this blonde man had a different idea.

A man the Doctor had actually just met not ten seconds ago when he jumped in front of a beam of light. A beam that should’ve killed the man instantly, but he seemed to be holding on. 

“I don’t even know who you are,” croaked the Doctor. 

The floor crumbled around them making huge gaps and deathly falls to the void below. What was under there no one knew. 

The blonde man gave a choked off laugh and smiled wide at the Doctor. “Oh, Bones, you’ll know me eventually.” The blonde’s blue eyes slitted. “I’m really sorry about this, but you’ll probably be fine,” he muttered as he seemed to muster up whatever energy he had left and kicked the Doctor over the edge of the crumbled cliff.

__

BANG. CRASH. BOOM. 

Jim jolted upright. His heart felt like it’d burst from his chest. Splinter his frail ribs and tear through the thin skin of his knobbed frame. 

It had to be Kodos. 

Jim rose to his feet, wobbly, and weak. The throbbing pain of his stomach dulled as he looked toward the other feeble children held up in the caves. Jim was marveled about how none of them had been awoken by the noise or maybe they were awake. Too weak or too in pain. 

Jim tugged on the loose hang of his oversized shirt and glanced back toward the opening.

Had Kodos actually found them? 

Jim ran his hand through his hair, knotted, messy, he inhaled a sharp breath, and sluggishly moved toward the entrance to find out.

Tarsus IV had never been a paradise, but the planet had still degraded after the famine struck. 

Crops died. Rotted away as the fungus overtook the plant life. Fires broke out. Riots were stuck.

People had been publicly executed in hopes of extending the rations.

It had left the world reminiscent of the dust bowl of 1930’s Earth. 

Barren. Buried. Dead.

Jim squinted his eyes, but something felt different. The air had fallen still, heavy, and Jim could see a pillar of smoke rise in the near distance. 

Different from the smoke seen rising off of fire and it was coming from the opposite direction of the near baren city.

Okay. So not Kodos. 

Had someone crashed?

Jim knew he shouldn’t exert any unnecessary energy, but the unknown was fascinating. 

It was the unknown after all. A mystery and Jim wasn’t about to let this mystery get away from him. 

Plus if it was a crashed ship they might have food which he could give to his kids. The youngest ones really needed to eat. 

Jim started off in a slow walk, then he began sprinting when the smoke pillar grew closer, a rough smudge of a craft became visible, and he willed himself to go faster. 

When he finally got to the craft he could hear coughing and cursing. 

A man hung halfway out of the thing smacking at what looked like one of those old british police boxes. 

Jim breathed heavily and furrowed his brow. “Are you okay?”  

The man made a shrieking noise and toppled over onto the ground. 

Jim couldn’t help but laugh. 

The man picked his head up, his eyes wide at Jim, and limbs scrambling to get himself up right. “Ugh. Ew. New legs,” groused the man with what sounded like a southern accent. The man stood on his feet and furrowed his brow. “Am I southern now? I’m southern now. Shame. I enjoyed sounding like a Kiwi.” 

Jim tilted his head and furrowed his brow. “Um… excuse me?” 

The man blinked and dusted off his rumpled clothes that looked a little too short on his frame. “Howdy there…” He squinted at Jim and tilted his head. “Kid.” Then he looked around. “Where am I?”

Jim raised one of his brows. “Tarsus IV.” 

Something in Jim’s answer made the man stiffen. “What year?” asked the man. His eyes now trained on Jim’s frame.

Jim opened his mouth to reply. 

But the funny man blurted out, “Don’t say 2246.” 

Jim snapped his mouth shut. 

The man ran his hand through his hair. “You ain’t saying anything.” 

“You told me not to say 2246,” replied Jim. 

A loud POP POP POP came from within the blue box. “GOD DAMNIT!” shouted the man. “I’ll be right back, Kid!” He climbed into the box and there was an audible metal clang as he fell into it. “Say how many of you are there? Kids. I mean how many kids are there?”

Jim furrowed his brow. Did the man’s voice echo? “We’re down to nine,” replied Jim with a rub to his arm.

“Nine. So I’ve… Nine.” The popping subsided and the man crawled back out with a stuffed sack. He held it out toward Jim and ran his hand through his hair once more. “How old is the youngest?” 

Jim took the sack from him and looked down at his bare feet. “She… She is just a baby. She can eat solids though.”

The man bit into his lower lip. “You best get that sack back to your cave over there.” 

Jim swallowed heavy and nodded. “Thank you, Sir.” 

“Name is the Doctor, kid.” 

The man disappeared back into his smoking ship.

“And then I came back here!” Jim grinned at the other kids. 

“Just say you stole the food, Jimmy,” groused Tom as the youngest ate their fill.

Tom was the oldest among the group. Seventeen and a bit of a hard ass when the situation is right. 

Right now Tom was being a hard ass. 

Jim saw the man and the blue box with his own eyes! Tom just wasn't going to believe a thirteen year old kid. 

Jim frowned and allowed his hands to fall into his lap. “I told you a strange man in a blue box delivered it!” 

“And I'm telling you I don't believe it, Jimmy.” See? Stubborn hard ass.

“It is a very illogical story, Jim,” added the second oldest. A Vulcan female with scraggly hair. She hadn't disclosed her name with the group, but that was probably because she hadn't chosen one yet. 

Not like Jim who had gotten his name through lock picking. 

It was probably why they weren't believing him about the man in the blue box. 

Jim grabbed a nutrient bar from the pile of food he'd dumped from the sack. Maybe the blue box and the man was a hunger induced illusion. Maybe he had stolen the sack of food. “Have you found a name yet?” 

The Vulcan’s head tilted. “There is this hybrid female I went to school with before my parents made me visit my uncle here on Tarsus. I am fond of her name.” 

Jim took a bite of the bar, ignoring the pain it brought his teeth, and he raised a brow. “So you're going to steal her name?” 

The Vulcan blushed. “In a way you are correct. I would be stealing her name.” 

Jim chewed and swallowed. “So. Name?” 

“T’Palla.” 

Jim smiled at her. “You sure this classmate will appreciate having her name taken?”

“It is not logical,” said T’palla. 

Jim furrowed his brow. What did she mean by that? 

Tom scowled. “You still think we are getting out of this, Jimmy?” 

Jim flinched back and stared down at his lap.  “Maybe I just wanted to focus on something else.” Jim had given up on Starfleet, but maybe someone would help them.

Eventually. 


	2. Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Swearing? Have I put swearing in this yet? Mentions or hinted child abuse, Emotional (?) abuse, and mentioned alcoholism.

Being rescued hadn’t given Jim any sense of security. His life on Tarsus IV had been those kids. Had been wrapped up and wound tight together. 

Now. Now they were on a Starbase. In a hospital, and Jim was afraid they’d part ways. Be separated after evaluations. Who was ‘healthier’, who was in a more stable condition. 

Evaluations. It sounded stupid because they all knew they were deathly underweight, under nourished, under a lot of stress, and just waiting for their waking nightmare to be over.

It was over wasn't it? 

Jim dug his nails into the soft couch of the waiting room. Everyone was waiting for their turn to have their first meeting with a psychiatrist here.

T’palla had already had her turn, but she was stuck to Jim’s side on the couch. 

Jim was thankful for her. Even if comfort wasn’t logical to a Vulcan and Jim was just some over emotional human kid.

It had to be over. Kodos was dead from conditions none of the kids would describe. 

Not to their parents, or parent in Jim’s case. 

Not even to the lovely psychiatrist.

Except for Tom. 

Everyone could hear him through the door. Spilling. Shouting.

Tom was more than obsessed with Kodos now. He hadn’t stopped talking about Kodos since after the rescue.

Jim was sick of it. Kodos was dead. Dead. DEAD. 

Tom just needed to shut up about it.

Tom came out with bandages around his eye. He was still talking. Saying Kodos was alive and they had to do something.

T’palla cracked under the mental pressure of it all and Jim understood it took a lot for a Vulcan to lash out. “SHUT UP! JUST SHUT UP, TOM!”

Back to this psychiatrist.

It was Jim’s turn.

He simply rotated from one sofa to the one in the psychiatrist's office. His knees tucked up against the cushions and a pillow pressed against his nose.

His name was David McCoy, or that was the human name he had given himself as he was a humanoid alien with a warm smile and suckers. 

The suckers were for occasions like if they cooperated by talking about their trauma or reached a goal. 

At least that’s what Doctor McCoy was explaining to Jim as he thumbed over the patient information they had him fill out. “You wrote down you preferred to be call Jim? And use he/him pronouns?” 

Jim lifted his eyes to stare Doctor McCoy down. 

Doctor McCoy was a patient man and Jim was a very stubborn kid who was avoiding his pain for as long as he could.

Doctor McCoy must’ve taken the silence as his answer.

“I have a child like you.” He sighed heavily and cast his eyes downward at the PADD in his hands. “Okay, Jim,” began Doctor McCoy. He leaned back in his chair and scanned the documents. “Has your mother visited you yet?” 

That was a question to ask. They’d only been at the hospital a few hours. 

Jim scowled. “My  _ parent _ ,” corrected Jim with a small shuffle of his hip.

“I apologize,” said the doctor. “Go on.”

Jim shifted and fiddled with the tassels on the pillow. “My parent just received their transmission. They told me they would be able to visit as soon as possible.” 

“How do you feel about that?” 

Right. Jim was finally talking, but that didn't mean he'd answer everything the doctor asked. 

“Don't get me wrong,” began Jim, unwillingly, but also tired of not saying a word. “I love my parent. I know they try hard and I know they care.” Jim shifted again. 

There were just going to be more obstacles on Jim’s road to recovery. 

After this he'd just go back to Riverside. Back to Iowa where he'd be alone with his asshole of an uncle who sent him to Tarsus in the first place.

In a large farm house where the Asshole screamed at Jim and told him no one would believe a word that came out of his mouth.

Then Winona would probably return to work after Jim was deemed well  _ enough _ . 

They had to provide after all. 

“But?” asked Doctor McCoy. 

Jim glanced down at his feet and curled his sock covered toes. “I don't know. I'm just a liar with no dad and a guilt complex the size of Texas.” That was probably stretching it, but that was how Jim felt. 

Doctor McCoy grew silent for a few moments. “Why do you say you're a liar?”

“Because no one wants to believe me. They just… think I make things up.” Jim shrugged. He could sell snow to a snowman, but he wasn’t always spouting off knowledge without the research. “They think I'm just being argumentative because I want to be right all the time.” 

“Do you have an example?” 

Jim picked his head up and squinted at Doctor McCoy. There were many scenarios he could talk about, but something made his mind settle on the man in the blue box. “About a week ago I swear this man in a blue box gave me a sack of food to share with the others.” 

Doctor McCoy’s eyes widened slightly, body language shifted. He was engaged, hanging on Jim’s every word, and leaned so far forward Jim thought he was going to fall flat on the floor. 

“Tom… convinced me I was just lying. I've stolen food before to keep us alive.” That just cemented itself in Jim’s brain. He’d stollen the food like the rest of the times when there was no more ‘currency’ to barter for the food. 

The man in the blue box was an illusion. 

Kodos was dead. 

He'd go back to Riverside and nothing would change. 

The rest of the session was spent in silence. 

Jim left the room then returned to the hospital room he was sharing with T’palla.

Her mothers were there. 

There was a short—for a vulcan—and stocky woman with a scarf around her head. She was seated on the side of the bed running her stained fingers through T’palla’s hair. Almost like she was fussing over T’palla, but Vulcan’s don't  _ fuss _ . 

Then the other was tall woman seated in the chair next to the bed. She was lean. Had this air of teaching and all too seriousness around her. Aside from her hair that was dark brown and wavy.

Jim grinned at them and raised his hand in the greeting T’palla had shown him. “You must be…” Jim glanced over at T’palla for a small moment. He needed confirmation from her. To use her name.

The young Vulcan nodded at Jim. “I have discussed my gender identity with them.”

Jim nodded quickly and looked back toward the older Vulcans. “T’palla’s mothers. I'm Jim. Jim Kirk.” 

“James Tiberius Kirk.” T’palla held a level gaze with Jim. “For the full effect as you would say.” She then looked to her mothers. “He had us discuss names at one point,” explained T’palla. “He is the reason we lasted another week.”

“Dark,” squeaked Jim as he plopped down on his bed. 

“I would like to invite him to Vulcan at some point.” T’palla angled her head at her mothers then into her lap. “If that would be… satisfactory. I think he would enjoy Vulcan and I could give him my contact information.” 

Jim’s brain short circuited for a moment.  _ Vulcan? _ He would enjoy going to Vulcan! 

He enjoyed T’palla’s company and out of everyone from the group; T’palla was someone he'd love to stay in contact with. 

Maybe he could meet other Vulcans! Did Vulcans have friends? Or were their classmates just their classmates? Their peers.

“I don't see anything wrong with it,” said the bean pole of a Vulcan. 

“As long as Commander Kirk is okay with it,” added the stocky Vulcan with an  _ almost _ smile. 

Jim’s heartbeat wildly. “I'm sure my ‘rent would be fine with it.” His voice squeaked.

“We will ask them when they arrive. Until then we will be staying on the base until T’palla recovers, and we are able to secure a Vulcan healer.” The lean Vulcan stood on her feet and gave the hand gesture to Jim. 

“I apologize for being rude, I am somewhat emotionally compromised. I am N’Keth and this is my bondmate Tekav.” 

Tekav waved in the human way. “T’palla was telling us how you are from Iowa.” 

Jim blinked. “Yeah. Riverside.”

“We are from Shi'Kahr,” said Tekav. “T’palla does not make friends easily and I find it adequate that she has found friendship with you.”

N’Keth put her hand on Tevak’s shoulder. “We must settle in on the base. I await hearing from your parental figure, James.”

Tevak blinked and nodded. “Get some rest tonight, kids.” 

…

 

T’Palla poked away at a PADD her mothers had brought her and Jim sat at the end of her hospital bed. “I was going to vid chat my classmate,” said T’Palla. “But he has informed me he is with his friend.” Something in T’Palla’s face twitched. Showed the possibility of an emotional break.

Jim stretched out at the foot of her bed and rested his chin in his hand. There was something to be said when a Vulcan’s mind was compromised. Jim could infer that T’Palla’s mind was compromised from the six months they’d spent on Tarsus. “You wanna order lots of gross hospital food and talk about it?”

T’palla lifted her head and blinked. “I… I think ordering food would be adequate, we have… skipped lunch.” 

And missed a few couple hundred meals while on Tarsus, but Jim wasn’t going to bring that up.

Jim shuffled up into a criss cross position. “So this classmate. You like him?”

“He is… bonded with the other T’Palla.” T’Palla sighed and set the PADD aside.

Right. Vulcan bonding. Seven year olds in gross heteronormative Vulcan bonding. Jim made a clicking noise by sucking on his cheek. “But you still like him?” 

T’Palla glanced quickly at Jim and ran a hand through her hair. “He is charming. A lot of people like him.” 

Jim laughed and scooted closer. “But you  _ like _ him?”

T’Palla narrowed her eyes then shifted her spine. “I thought we were going to order food, James?” 

Jim squinted and grinned at her. “I can do two things.” He scooted until he was able to slip off the bed and then went to the PADD the nurse had brought in earlier. “Isn’t companionship  _ logical _ ?” 

“Yes,” replied T’Palla. 

Jim picked the PADD up and pushed his finger against the APP for ordering their food. “Then there is nothing to be embarrassed about.” 

T’Palla’s cheeks tinted green and she looked away. 

Vulcan’s don’t get embarrassed Jim’s ass. “Now what do you want for pre-dinner?”

…

It was after dinner. A time where the hospital confined them to their room. It didn’t mean they had to sleep. 

Still. Jim wanted to try. Wanted to try to melt into the minor softness of his hospital bed, but he just couldn’t. 

He flopped over onto his side and rested his head over his bent elbow. 

T’Palla was still awake with her PADD bringing soft features to her darker skinned face. 

“What are you doing?” asked Jim with a wriggle of his body up the bed. 

T’Palla’s gaze shifted from her PADD over to Jim. “Group chat,” mumbled T’Palla. “I am—as you would say—the alpha T’Palla now.” There was a clear smirk outlined by the soft glow of the PADD. “His name is Spock.”

Jim grinned wide. “Spock? That a good name for a Vulcan?” 

T’Palla shrugged. “Perhaps you shall ask him when you are to come to Vulcan.” 

Jim’s feet vibrated as he pushed them against the mattress. “I’d love to meet your friend.” 

“ _ Classmate _ ,” hissed T’Palla. 

“You’re in a group chat. He is your friend and if he isn’t you two will be.” Jim laughed and curled his toes.

T’Palla sighed and typed away at her PADD. 

“Whatcha doing now?” asked Jim. 

“Telling Spock that my human friend thinks we will be friends.”

Jim grinned and waggled his brows. “You admitted I’m your friend. So, I think I win here.”

T’Palla sent the message and narrowed her eyes at the screen. “Of course you are my friend, Jim.”

There was a pause as a BLOOP noise came from the PADD. 

T’Palla’s dark eyes grew wide and her PADD came crashing down on her face. “Spock. Has replied,” came the muffled voice of T’Palla. “He… he had been under the impression we were friends.” 

“ _ Dense _ ,” hissed Jim with a waggle of his brows. “You okay?” 

“The only thing hurt. Is my face and pride.” 

Jim laughed something that made a sharp pain jolt his lungs. “God, T’Palla.”

Silence fell and the light from T’Palla’s PADD fizzled out as the screen locked. 

“Jim?” 

Jim blinked slowly and stared at her misshapen lump of a body. “Yeah?” 

“Do you hate Romulans?” 

That was some question. Jim chewed on the chapped skin of his lips and gnawed off the strings of skin that had loosened there. 

Romulans had effected Jim’s life in a way that was apparent. 

Jim flopped onto his back and folded his hands over his stomach. Did he hate Romulans for attacking the Kelvin? Hate them for taking away his chances to have a father? 

Specific Romulans. He hated the specific Romulans who destroyed his chances.

He heard T’Palla roll over in her bed and sigh. “Nevermi—” 

“No. I don’t hate Romulans,” admitted Jim. 

T’Palla took in a sharp inhale. “That’s good. That’s good.” 

Silence fell once more and Jim flopped over onto his side to stare outside the large window. 

“Jim?”

“Yes?” 

“I’m half Romulan.” 

Jim felt the small smile spread across his face. “Don’t worry, T’Palla. I still like you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *finger guns* I'm actually writing something that is slow build? Like. So much fucking slower than things I actually tag as 'slow build'. 
> 
> Anyways Until next time!


	3. You're Gonna Go Far Kid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Underage drinking, unhealthy coping mechanisms, swearing, adults discussing sex?.... Two adults discussing sex at one point. Drinking and the bar fight scene. So mild not very descriptive violence.

Jim returned to his Iowa home the fall of 2246. The day of Halloween actually. Other kids and young teens were busy trick or treating with their family and friends. While Jim was curled up under a blanket on the couch, Winona Kirk going over scheduled doctor’s appointments, dental appointments, and the grocery list. 

“Where is Uncle Frank?” asked Jim when his parental grew quiet. 

Jim had noticed when they walked through the front door that the farm house was quiet. There was a lack of bottles littered around the living space, a clean environment for recovery, and Winona’s attitude was the most significant change. 

There was a pause before Winona muttered, “I kicked him out.” They went back to listing off things needed from the store. Milk. Eggs. Butter. Cat food.

Jim lifted his head up to glance back into the kitchen.

Well, that was surprising. 

Who’d watch Jim when Winona went back to Starfleet? 

“Good for you.” Jim paused and settled back down on the couch. He didn’t need someone watching over him. He was thirteen after all. Old enough to babysit and old enough to be left to his own devices. 

Like he had been on Tarsus. Left in charge along with the other oldests. 

“I’ve scheduled family counseling and Doctor McCoy suggested that I also sign you up for one on one sessions.” 

Jim mad a hmmm noise and sank deeper into the soft fluffy blanket.

Winona leaned over the back of the couch. “And after therapy I might’ve scheduled an appointment with an endocrinologist.” 

Jim perked up at that and tilted his head. “That’s a hormone doctor, right?” 

Winona smiled. “Then we can talk about when you want to go to Vulcan, but first we have to focus on starting recovery.” 

Jim groaned but smiled. Maybe all of this meant they’d stick around. “I guess I can do that.” 

Winona pushed off the couch with a grin. “Move over, I have candy, we live in the middle of nowhere, and I’m not expecting trick or treaters.” 

Jim rolled his eyes a little, but brought his knees up to make room for Winona. “Of course, My Parental Unit.” 

…

 

Jim was sprawled out on his stomach. His feet kicked the air, and his fingers prodded at the side tabs on his PADD. 

Currently he had a tab opened up to a two way game of chess with T’Palla and of course he was also screen chatting with her. She looked at peace in her room back on Vulcan. Like she had actually missed the place. 

Jim furrowed his brow. She did miss it though, right? Jim had to remind himself that not everyone had never wanted to return to their homes. To their lives. 

Not everyone had been afraid of coming back and getting worse instead of better. 

“You are distracted,” stated T’Palla as she pulled her hair back from her slowly filling out face. “Is Terra not as you left it?” 

Jim shook his head and tapped away at the screen. He didn’t really know how to play chess, and T’Palla was kicking his ass. 

“Not being the same is a good thing,” responded Jim as the program showed him the moves he could make with the piece he highlighted. “The asshole is gone and I think my parental unit is gonna stick around.” 

At least Jim hoped Winona would. They had a short amount of leave that they would be using and the family counseling was going well. 

T’Palla sighed. “I understand what you mean.” 

Jim made his move and glanced at T’Palla’s face. “Vulcan not the way you left it?” 

T’Palla gave the slightest signs of a disappointed smile. “I am not the same as I once was.” 

Jim could understand that. Tarsus had changed them all. Physically and mentally. 

T’Palla’s eyes squinted and casted away to the side. “I will be finishing up our game of chess shortly, It is early morning, and I have to go to the learning center.” She made her move quickly and captured one of Jim’s pieces. 

Jim puffed out his cheeks. “I should get to bed soon anyway,” responded Jim as he moved another piece. This time without thought. “You’re kicking my ass anyways.” 

T’Palla’s eyes grew wide. “Jim,” whispered T’Palla. “You just put my king in check.” 

Jim laughed. “I wasn’t even thinking.” 

“A reckless act,” whispered T’Palla as she moved her king. “Leaping before looking.” 

Jim grinned at her. “That’s just Kirk family instinct, or so my Parental Unit says.” He shrugged and moved another piece without much thought to it. The game flashed with computerized confetti and a bold ‘CHECKMATE’ across the open tab. 

“I have to get you to play Spock,” said T’Palla with a barely there grin. “He wins every time and just once I’d like to see his face when he loses.”  

Jim waggled his brows. “Have an okay time at the learning center.” 

T’Palla inhaled deeply and made a disturbed noise. “I have to catch up on six months of work. Not to mention informing my teachers of my name change, but I think it will be worth it.” 

“Hey, T’Palla?” 

She blinked and tilted her head. “Yes?” 

Jim rested his chin in his hands and smirked. “Give Spock my information. I’d love to play chess with him.” 

T’Palla laughed. “Jim, if you play him while I am not there what would be the point of beating him where I cannot see his face?”

“Don’t try to find the logic in it.” Jim grinned wide, closed the chess tab, and shrugged. “I’ll talk to you later?” 

T’Palla blinked and glanced down at the corner. Perhaps she was also closing the game tab. “Of course. If you are having trouble sleeping I can message you while I am at lunch.” 

Jim nodded. “Sounds good, but you don’t need to.”

T’Palla’s gaze leveled with Jim’s and her brow furrowed. “Your pain is not a burden on me, Jim.” 

Jim swallowed heavily and glanced away from the screen. “Thank you, T’Palla, but I’ll try to sleep.” 

“Promise?” 

Jim shut his eyes, inhaled, and then opened them again to take in the concern on his friend’s face. “I promise,” lied Jim.

T’Palla’s face didn’t budge. “You know the difference between vulcans and everyone else?”

“Vulcans can’t lie.” 

T’Palla gave the smallest smile. “Good night, Jim. I’ll tell Spock that you wish to get into contact with him.”

The call ended and Jim flopped over onto his back. 

T’Palla didn’t need to know that Jim wouldn’t be sleeping, but it was obvious she knew. 

Oh well. 

He hadn't been in the past few nights or he'd wake up from nightmares and then fuck around with the internet.

Jim puffed out his cheeks, then sucked the air back into his lungs, and sighed. 

What could he do tonight? 

Learn how to play chess? 

Nah, he was getting kind of bored with the walls of his room.

He could chance the coyotes and go for a walk.

Maybe sneak out to the barn with his PADD? Listen to the old CDs his father had kept in another one of his old cars.  

He could sneak downstairs and make some late coffee that would just make him tired.

Though all of those last options required sneaking past Winona’s bedroom door. 

He slapped his hands against his thighs and puffed up his cheeks again. 

Jim didn’t want to wake them.

He looked toward the door and then toward the window.

There was always the window.

Jim bolted upright. A quick movement that nearly made his head spin. 

That sounded like an idea. He’d climbed out that window many times before, but he’d been in better condition then. 

Before Tarsus IV condition. 

Jim furrowed his brow and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Maybe he could still try. If he was careful. 

The carpet was soft under his feet as he padded his way over to the window. He swallowed heavily and opened the window quickly. 

A blast of fall air hit him in the face, he scrunched up his nose as he hooked one knee outside the frame, and looked down. The roof here was sloped. He was just above the kitchen afterall, but he could easily climb his way down onto the front porch awning. 

He should probably be dressed warmer. He should not brave the near November weather in flannel pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. 

Jim shrugged, climbed his way onto the sloped roof, then turned around to leave his window open a crack, and once that was done he gently trekked his way down. 

He really should put on shoes or something. Turn back and dress appropriately for the climb down. 

He hopped down onto the awning of the porch, shimmied down the support pole, and rested the balls of his feet against the rough splintering wood of the mini fence. 

About to hop down the rest of the way, Jim heard someone clear their throat. 

Jim froze and slowly turned his head toward the noise. 

“When Winona called called me because they wanted a little help,” said Christopher Pike with a tilt of his head and a sharp smirk. “I didn’t expect to drive up and see someone sneaking out of their room dressed in their pajamas.” 

Jim bit his lower lip, slowly slipped down onto the floor of the porch, and then rolled his eyes. “Well when I snuck out I didn’t anticipate running into my dad’s ex.” Yeah, it wasn’t really a secret when Pike showed up to occasions like Jim’s birthday. Where every family member gave him this odd look and then whispered behind his back. Hell, Jim even knew a lot more. 

It was never a secret. Winona was always open and honest about it.

Pike’s eyes grew wide and he rose one of his brows. “Uncalled for.”

“I didn’t even hear you pull up.” Jim grinned at him with squinted eyes. “You gonna tell my parental unit?”

“No.” Pike took the stairs up to the porch and angled his head toward the porch swing. “What were you planning on doing?” 

Jim sighed, walked over to the seat, hopped up onto it legs and all, then curled up. His knees were nearly tucked under his chin. “Maybe going out to the barn.” 

Pike sank down next to him, then pushed his feet back and forth to start a soft swinging motion. “That barn is cold.” Pike leaned back and turned his head toward Jim. “You wanna talk about anything?” 

Jim snorted out a laugh and shook his head. “Can’t sleep.” 

“Valid, but going out dressed in your pajamas isn’t going to fix not sleeping,” said Pike. 

While this was all too true, Jim couldn’t… 

Jim looked down at his hands and curled up tighter. 

Jim wasn’t in a place where he could see past the tragedy. Past the trauma that was keeping him up. He just wanted to do something no matter how unsafe or crazy that thing would be. 

Jumping out a window, taking a shower while it is storming, or breaking into a liquor cabinet—hell, maybe a bar—seemed like some really nice options in his head. Anything but the things awaiting him when he closed his eyes and had nothing to do but  _ THINK _ .

If he wanted to do those things he could. 

Couldn’t he? 

Pike had grown silent, he just continued to rock the porch swing, and stare out into the semi-darkness of the Iowa night. 

Jim peeked over the back of the swing. He could see the corn fields illuminated by the moon, and further than that he could see the twinkle of the stars.

Stars. Space. At one point in time Jim had looked up there and wished to escape. 

Longed for something more than the lack of life he had in Riverside or even the rising death toll of Tarsus.

He still wanted those things. Adventures in the stars. Adventures where he would explore strange new worlds, new life, new civilizations, and just new everything! To boldly go where no one had gone before.

Jim took in a deep breath, sighed, then looked at Pike, and frowned. 

Pike wouldn’t stick around, he was still a member of Starfleet, and still working toward getting a ship of his own.

Jim should take the opportunity to ask about his dad. 

“Do you know how to play chess?”

Another time maybe.

Pike took in a deep breath. “Do I look like the type of guy who plays chess?” 

Jim’s stare didn't waver. “You don't.” 

Pike chuckled, his eyes crinkled just slightly, and he said, “Let's learn together.” 

Jim glanced toward the front door. “You know my ‘rent did install a heating unit in the barn and I think dad had a chess set in there.” 

“Figures he would,” muttered Pike. “He was a big fucking nerd.” 

Jim didn't even flinch at the casual old terran swear, but Pike seemed to realize what he said too late. 

Pike covered his face and started sputtering a little. “I mean—Fuck.” 

Jim laughed, uncurled himself, and slapped Pike on the shoulder. “I heard worse. Don't worry over swearing.”

…

 

“This is human music?” asked T’Palla with a head tilt and this nearly intense look of concentration on her face as Jim stomped his foot twice and clapped. 

They were in her room on Vulcan having what Jim had designated T’Palla’s first sleepover, even though they were no strangers to sleeping in the same area, but this was the first time T’Palla would have other Vulcans over!

Specifically Jim was expecting to meet this mysterious Spock who he had bested at long distance chess. Always without a camera but T’Palla had been exceptionally pleased with the results. 

Jim tightened the plaid shirt he’d wrapped around his waist and curled his sock covered toes into the floor. “Specifically twentieth century human music,” said Jim as he put his hands down at his sides and lunged for T’Palla’s bed. The mattress bounced and Jim puffed up his cheeks as he looked at the bubbled popcorn appearance of the ceiling. “I found it in some of my dad’s old stuff after my fifteenth birthday.” 

That had been kinda fun. After returning from Tarsus two years ago he’d been slowly healing, mentally, and the music almost helped in a way. It helped more that his ‘rent had stuck around.

“I like this Queen,” said T’Palla as she turned the music up a little. “I’m sure Spock will also enjoy them.” 

If he showed up. From Jim’s understanding Spock had gotten into a confrontation earlier with the usual Vulcan asshole T’Palla had called  _ Stonn _ and his parents were fond of  _ grounding _ .

Also according to T’Palla, Spock and Stonn seemed to have a real rivalry over the other visitor they were expecting. 

“What’s her name again?” asked Jim. He realized a second after that the question had come out of nowhere and T’Palla might not understand what he was asking. 

“She calls herself T’Pring now,” replied T’Palla. 

Well, thought Jim, T’Palla was great at translating Jim Kirk speak. 

The bed dipped as T’Palla returned to it. “When are you able to get your eyes augmented and get your implants?” 

Jim sat up and ran a hand through his short hair. “Dental implants, testosterone implant, and eye augmentation are scheduled for some time after my eighteenth birthday.” He looked toward T’Palla. “Any other questions?” 

T’Palla bit her lower lip and brought her knees up onto the bed. “Do you still want to know about the man in the blue box?”

A week prior to his visit here T’Palla had informed him of some ancient writings she had found in her mother N’Keth’s work things. They had apparently belonged to the Vulcan museum and dated back to pre-reform Vulcan. 

N’Keth had remembered a certain ecstatic thirteen year old human who had mentioned a man in a blue box, so, she had taken them home to T’Palla. 

Why was she able to take these things home? Apparently the museum had not wanted to touch on the old slave dealers of their pre-reform ancestors.

Jim took in a deep breath, flopped over onto his stomach, kicked his feet in the air, and rested his chin in his hands. “Do you still have those things?” Of course he wanted to see them. He’d been frantically searching for two years for any information on the blue box and the strange man inside. 

A lot of research. Sightings in Germany during world war two, a sighting in 1960’s San Francisco, etc. Most of the stuff he’d come across had dead ended, explained as old fairy tales, and things that couldn’t have happened. 

“Of course I still have the papers, Jim.” T’Palla stretched over the bed to get into her bedside drawer and produced many flimsies. “It’s mostly drawings and slave trader information.  _ Mostly _ .” She plopped it in the middle of the bed and it was a thick file of information and aged photographs. “It's really interesting. Apparently the slave traders ran into a strange looking being who had come out of a blue box, but a lot of it is lost in translation from old to new.” 

Jim made a face. “They couldn’t transfer the information to a PADD?” 

“The discoverer said it wouldn’t transfer well due to the changes in language,” said T’Palla as she opened the file and scanned through the many items. She plucked a large photo from the pile. “Here is the weird part.” She handed the photo over to Jim. 

Jim furrowed his brow. “They had cameras back in pre-reform?” It was a weathered looking photo, some of it blurred out with age, but there was no mistaking that blue box. 

No mistaking that same man scowling at the camera. Sure, in this photo he looked a little older than when he’d appeared on Tarsus IV, but that was him. Ready to climb back into his box with some blurred out man wrapped tight against him. 

“They didn’t,” said T’Palla. 

Jim furrowed his brow. “Then why is there…” A photograph. Had it been doctored? 

But the man in the blue box. It couldn't be doctored.

Then her PADD dinged. “I'll go see who it is.” She rose to her feet and went to pick up her PADD she had placed on the other side of the room. 

Jim stared down at the laminated photo. The man scowling right at him. Through him. 

“Spock is grounded,” said T’Palla. 

“I was so excited to meet him and beat him at chess in person.” Jim put the photo down. “Can I keep this file?”

“If I can keep the Queen albums.”

Jim made a hmmm noise and lifted his head. It wasn't like this was his only set of the albums. Dad’s stuff had been packed with various others. “Sure.”

T’Palla grinned. “Other than that, T’Pring is here.”

 

…

  
  


“So, I go into this bar,” began Jim as he moved his knight and flicked his wrist away from the screen, “and I’m nearly sixteen at that point right?” He was sixteen now, but the story had taken place just before his birthday. Just before the start of the new year. 

The only response Jim got was a soft sounding breath and the movement of a bishop on the screen. 

_ Typical _ , thought Jim. “I’m way too young to be in a bar,” continued Jim. One to never stop rambling when things get quiet. Hell, he’d make noises just to fill the void. “And long story short I had to spend a night at the station until my ‘rental came to get me.” He moved his own bishop and chewed on his lower lip. 

“Fascinating,” muttered Spock on the other end. 

The one word he had said between every twenty of Jim’s sentences. It was nearly infuriating. Nearly. Jim smiled to himself and pulled at his lower lip with his free hand. 

“Check,” muttered Spock as he moved his queen into place. 

He felt nearly privileged to hear Spock say two whole words.

Jim peered at the screen and smirked. “Huh, guess you might win?” He moved his queen and knocked into Spock’s remaining knight. “Checkmate.” 

Spock was silent once more. “ _ Fascinating _ .”

“Hope T’Palla won’t be too mad at me for kicking your butt while she is out with T’Pringle.” Jim wiggled his toes and yawned. 

The microphone picked up Spock’s sharp inhale and slow exhale. “You should go to bed.”

“Wow!” exclaimed Jim. “You’ve said five whole words to me.”

Spock made a noise on the other end of the screen. 

Spock still didn’t have a webcam, but Jim assumed it was more because his mother was protective. Even if Spock was nineteen. 

Winona would be protective too if Jim had gotten bullied every day of his life. 

“How’d you like the Queen albums?” asked Jim as he shifted.

“ _ Jim _ ,” muttered Spock. “I am to assume it is late and T’Palla has informed me of your irresponsible sleeping habits.” 

Jim rolled his eyes. His sleeping habits were… terrible, but he had important things going on! Or, well... 

Jim’s head sagged into his hand. Semi-important things. Christopher Pike was in town while Winona was away for Starfleet matters and he was staying in the basement. Just to make sure Jim wasn’t alone or didn’t go anywhere he wasn’t supposed to. 

“It is a perfectly reasonable time to…” Jim yawned again and glanced at the clock. “It’s only…” He squinted at the clock. “Oh wow,  _ shit _ ,” hissed Jim. It was nearing five in the morning and he’d barely even registered that he’d been losing all night to Spock at chess. “Shit.” 

“You require sleep,” muttered Spock. 

Jim huffed and pouted. “I liked it better when you just said ‘fascinating’.”

He knew Vulcans didn’t show emotion but he could’ve sworn he heard the slightest smile in Spock’s voice. “ _ Fascinating _ .” 

Soft sunshine burst from Jim’s lips in a full laugh. “Good night, Spock.” He shifted to get a little more comfortable.

“Good night, James,” yawned Spock. 

“You should get some sleep too.” Muttered Jim as he got settled deeper into the sheets. “You sound like you need it.” 

“Vulcans—” 

Jim rolled his eyes. “Require less sleep, but you still need sleep.” 

“...Good Night, Jim.” And they ended it there.

Jim closed the tab, that ended their conversation, but that hadn’t allowed Jim to drift off into sleep. 

Jim crossed his hands over his stomach and released a breath. 

He hopped up out of bed and tore through some laundry baskets for some warmer clothes. It was still winter, after all, and he wasn’t about to make the same mistakes he had made when he was thirteen and thought going out in his pajamas was a fantastic idea. 

Pike was in the basement, so he wouldn’t hear Jim sneak out. 

Jim hopped around from one foot to the next as he shoved his boots on. He was tired and really shouldn't drive, but something was nagging at him from the depths of his mind.

Maybe it was the conversation with Spock, maybe it was the cold emptying feeling the darkness of his room gave him, maybe it was just the lingering thoughts of Tarsus, or the crushing blow that the trail of the blue box had gone cold. 

Maybe it was just seasonal depression on top of his usual depression kicking his ass.

Whatever it was, he needed to do something. 

He grabbed the file T’Palla had given him last year and thumbed at the flimsy materials. 

Maybe Jim could track down the discoverer of this information. 

Then what? Demand answers? Get dragged away by the cops and put in some off planet institution because of this crazy fucking obsession with a man in a box who could’ve just been an illusion?

Jim rubbed at his face.

Maybe he should just get drunk. He had some booze stashed in the car in the barn. “I need to go for a ride.”

Jim slapped the file back down on his bed, grabbed a jacket, and climbed his way out the window like the times before. 

At five in the morning it was still pretty dark and the sun wasn’t scheduled to rise until sometime after seven, but Jim had taken this trek in the dark many times before. It was easier to do now really, but the roof still creaked when his feet stepped in certain areas of the roof.

He had to be careful tonight due to the semi-slickness of the shingles and barely there grip of his boots.

When he shimmed down to the ground his boots plopped ankle deep into the snow they’d gotten the nights before. It was crunchy, but fluffy. A good mix of old and new. 

Jim quirked his lips up in a soft grin. Step one of climbing out the window without getting caught by Pike was a success. 

On to step two. Which would be the trickiest step. 

Jim pulled his bangs back, shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket, and took the usual path over to the barn. 

This step was tricky because the engines of old cars were loud. Some 20th century assholes assumed loud cars made them sexually appealing, or it just gave them a thrill. Hell if it was just a thrill Jim could understand 20th century men and their power fantasies, but he knew there was more to those than just the thrill of a car.

For Jim it was just something about driving a rumbling car recklessly through deserted roads. For him that made things seem simple. 

It gave Jim a sense of normal. Even if that normal just lasted as long as the car did.

Jim tore at the chapped skin of his lower lip as he approached the large barn doors. His dad had collected many old cars and Jim had only completely wrecked at least one. That poor corvette had seen better days and Jim felt red hot shame in the pit of his stomach with the knowledge that he’d even driven it off that cliff. 

He took his hands out of his pockets and placed them both around the edge of the door. In the summer these doors were easy to open, but the winter made the old tracks a little difficult to pry open.

With a deep breath Jim settled his feet firmly into the ground below and gave the door a hard tug. 

The door creaked and it took at least two more times to get it opened just enough for the car to fit.

George Kirk seemed to have a fancy for fast cars and the one Jim had his eyes on for tonight was no different from the old stingray he’d wreaked. 

Not that it was the same model as the car he wrecked. Jim didn’t have extensive knowledge on cars, but he remembered that stingray. 

This car was not a stingray, but still some old modeled 20th century chevy.

Jim took in a deep breath and put his hands on his hips. He just needed to get the car out without making too much noise. 

Jim chewed at the skin of his lips again. He could just not give a shit about Pike in the basement. Tear out of the yard and drive away faster than Pike could get his ass outside. 

Jim took a few steps into the barn. The floor creaked just a little. It alerted the mousers, the cats jumped from their perches, and circled Jim’s feet with deep and high pitched meows as they rubbed their faces against his legs. 

Jim bent down and patted one of them on the head, that got the other two jealous, and he then had the three cats trying to get as much attention as possible. 

“Shhhhhhh.” Jim shook his head, straightened himself out, and then continued his trek over to the car. 

The cats eventually went back to their areas and watched Jim from the shadows of the dark barn. 

Jim knew his way after doing this a few too many times. He felt along the edge of the smooth surface, and soon found the handle to the drivers side door. He dipped his head a little, bangs getting in his face as he pulled on the handle, the car lit up inside, and Jim pulled his hair away from his face again. 

He’d need a haircut again, but that didn’t matter tonight. 

“Now… How to do this.” Jim climbed into the front seat and looked toward the house to see if any lights were going on. 

To see if he alerted the basement warden. 

No lights. 

He settled in the seat, closed the door, and shook his hands out from the chill of the night. “Okay.” Jim drew out the y. “Keys.” He checked the usual place, the old visor, and they weren’t there.

Jim frowned. He checked the glove compartment, cup holders, under the seat, near his feet, in the seats, and all he found was a small note from his parent about how they’d taken the keys with them. 

“Of course.” Jim wasn’t going to let that stop him.

He opened the door again and climbed out of the car. 

20th century cars didn’t have the back ups to keep them from being hotwired, but Jim didn’t need to hotwire any of the cars. 

He had a few spare keys that he’d hidden around the barn. 

He kept the door open for light and moved over to the tool chest Winona had kept in the barn. They’d sometimes work on the old cars. Sort of in remembrance of George. They’d been teaching Jim some essentials of car maintenance, but whatever. 

He reached the tool box and opened the third drawer. Jim smiled in remembrance of when Winona had asked for a crescent wrench and Jim hadn’t had a clue what one of those looked like. 

He lifted up the largest crescent wrench in the box. Untouched by them in years past, but on the back was a key Jim had taped to it. 

Jim took the key, put the wrench back, and climbed back into the car. 

As he plugged the key in the ignition he wondered what CD was even in the car, but he’d find out soon enough. 

He closed the door, settled into the seat, and looked back toward the house. 

Jim breathed deeply and waited for the lights of the car to dim down before he turned the key. 

The engine roared to life, loud, and all too perfect. 

Something filtered in from the speakers, but Jim was already backing the car up as fast as it would go, so, he didn’t pay that much attention. It sounded like Queen though, but maybe it was a mixed CD.

Jim was quick with his feet to put the car back in park just so he could get out to close the barn doors. 

This was a limited window, but he really didn’t want any of the cats to get eaten by coyotes.

The doors were easier to close than to open and Jim had been able to get back in the car just in time to see the living room lights turn on. 

He could hear his heart beat in his ears as he tore away toward the road with the biggest grin on his face. 

Step three. Floor it. Get away as fast as he could. Like he had a death wish.

Jim’s fingers tightened against the steering wheel. 

He hadn’t moved quite yet. 

Some time for nerves to get the better of him. To leave him sitting at the end of the driveway waiting to enter the empty street. 

What was he even waiting for? An audience? Someone to catch him in the act of escape?

He just needed to go! 

He smacked at his face and screamed. 

He needed to go. Why wasn’t he going? 

Jim pulled his hair back, looked into his rear view, the porch light lit up the front deck, from the swing to just a few feet in front of the house, and Jim knew that Pike could see the red glow of the tail lights. 

He needed to go.

The door opened and Jim’s foot fell heavy on the gas. 

He was down the road by the time he could see the shadowed figure at the end of the driveway.

Jim looked down at the steering wheel, sighed heavily, and then focused ahead.

It was just him, the road, and the music. 

Peaceful in a way. Even as his chest tightened with the background knowledge that he’d be in trouble again. 

Either with Pike or the cops or Winona. 

Jim swallowed heavily. 

Where was he even going to go?

He was going to go back to the house. Eventually. 

Jim knew he would. He just needed… some time. 

He took his foot off the gas and let the car roll for a while. He pulled off onto the side of the road into some long abandoned driveway just down a ways from the Kirk property.

He put the car in park and reached just below the passenger seat for the whiskey he’d put there a few days ago. 

It was still there which made Jim grin. 

This wouldn’t help his depression, plus he hated straight up alcohol, but he really wanted a drink.

Wanted to see how drunk he could get before Pike or the cops found him.

He maybe had some joints in the glove compartment too, but he didn’t feel like smoking.

He raised the bottle in his own little toast to himself. Whatever.

Jim didn’t know how long it took, but it was probably a few gulps into the whiskey. Not enough alcohol to categorize him as drunk, but he was definitely a little slower in his reaction time. 

He knew this because his eyes and ears had processed the flashing lights behind his car, but it took his brain a good minute to realize that Pike had called the cops. 

“Fuck,” hissed Jim as he stuck the bottle between his legs to cap it off. He then gently placed it back under the seat and swallowed. 

The cop was an actual human, not one of those robocops, but whatever. 

They were still a cop who was taking their sweet ass time strolling over to the drivers side door. 

Fuck Pike. 

Jim rolled down the window when motioned to. He showed some teeth at the cop who had become one of Winona’s close ‘friends’ in the past few months due to Jim acting out. 

Friend is loose, more like they were dating. “Morning, Jamie.” Jim didn’t even slur his words, which he was happy with, and then Jim giggled a little. “Miss Sanchez.” He paused. “Officer Sanchez.”

Officer Sanchez was a lovely woman. Average build with a dark complection and a short wavy hair cut with traces of grey. She had laughter lines near the corners of her mouth, and Jim often remembered them being painted with red lipstick when she stopped by to take Winona out. 

She also baked amazing chocolate chip cookies that Jim should never eat due to allergens, but he does anyways.

“Mr. Kirk,” began Officer Sanchez with her hands on her hips and a frown plastered on her face. 

Jim frowned back at her. 

“I’ve gotten a few calls tonight from a few of your neighbors and even Christopher Pike.” She sighed heavily and motioned toward the radio. “Turn that off.”

Jim bit his lower lip and pressed the button to turn the radio off. “Just say Christopher Pike called you. You and I know I don’t have neighbors.” 

Officer Sanchez leaned in and Jim could hear her sniff. “Turn the car off, Mr. Kirk.” 

Jim sighed heavily and turned the key toward himself. The engine died down, Jim took the key out, and then shoved it in his pocket. “Car is off.”

She backed away from the door. “Have you been drinking tonight, Mr. Kirk?”

Jim pressed his lips together and glanced toward the passenger seat. It was pretty illegal to drink while he was underaged. Plus he was in a car, and Sanchez was known for carting underaged drinkers down to the station. 

She’d even done it to her own son. Richard or something like that. Jim didn’t know him personally outside of school. 

Jim bit into his lower lip and looked back toward Officer Sanchez with squinted eyes. “... Yes.” Damn it, why couldn’t he say no like a normal person? 

“You know the drill, kid, out of the car.” 

Jim scowled, but complied. He got out of the car, clumsy on his feet, and a little giggly. “Am I being arrested?” 

Officer Sanchez sighed heavily and lead Jim over to the cop car. “I do not have to read you your rights if I am simply taking you in because of a DUI, as I won’t be interrogating you, and am simply taking you to the station until your parent—or godfather, in this case—comes to pick you up.”

Jim scowled. “I wasn’t doing the drinking while I was driving,” sassed Jim. 

Jim couldn’t see Officer Sanchez’s face, but he could tell she wasn’t amused as she swung the door open. “Because you are a minor, Mr. Kirk, I will tell you that you do have the right to remain silent until your guardian comes to get you.”

Jim made a hmmmmm noise and climbed into the back of the car. “I think I’ll just keep talking.” 

She shut the door and Jim could hear a muffled, “You always do.”

He buckled himself up, wiggled his feet, and grinned to himself. 

Officer Sanchez made a phone call to the towing company—It was just Oscar down the road some, he had tractors and cows— and told Oscar to come tow the Kirk car back to Winona’s place. “Yeah, it’s Jim Kirk again,” said Sanchez. “Thanks Oscar.” 

She sighed heavily and got into the car. “How many times am I going to have to pick you up in this car, Jim?”

Jim hummed and leaned back in the chair. “I have a feeling you might be doing it a few more times, but hey. What would Riverside be without me?”

Officer Sanchez backed the car out of the driveway and began her way into town. “You’d be missed, but I’d much rather not have a call about you every other week.”

Jim shrugged and pulled his bangs back again. “Valid.” 

“God help me,” muttered Sanchez. 

“God won’t help any of us.” Jim laughed so hard he had to throw his head back. “God likes to watch us suffer, Officer Sanchez.” Jim stared up at the sky through the rear window. Winter stars dying in the haze of the approaching dawn. Jim frowned. “Or at least that’s my experience.”

“Do you feel safe with yourself, Jim?” There was something in her voice that made Jim want to lie. 

He didn’t want to go to the hospital again. 

He never wanted to be in a hospital ever again.

Jim furrowed his brow. “Yes,” he lied.

The ride was quiet after that. 

The station was quieter. 

Officer Sanchez took Jim to the holding cell.

It was usually barren, but today there was someone else in the cell. He didn’t say much, just lowered his hat and tightened his scarf around his face. Other than the scarf and hat the man really wasn’t dressed for the weather. He maybe had a black sweater on, a pair of fingerless gloves, some jeans, and boots. 

That was it though.

Jim furrowed his brow. Jim definitely got a creepy vibe from the adult, but at the same time he was interested.

“I’ll be around to let you out when your guardian gets here.” 

Jim turned his head to Officer Sanchez and nodded.

Sanchez left down the hall. 

Jim returned his focus to the man and took his seat as far as he could be from the adult. 

“What are you in for?” asked Jim with a small grin. 

The individual flinched a little and glanced up at Jim with the bluest of eyes. “Uh…” He glanced toward the door. “Just didn’t feel safe with myself.” 

Jim could understand that.

Jim furrowed his brow and crossed his legs. “You know most people go to a hospital when that happens.”

The stranger let out a muffled laugh that trailed off into a cough. He then shifted and lifted his hat a little to show off some blonde hair. “Hate hospitals. Hate doctors—Well, most doctors. I’ve hated them since I was a kid, y’know how that is.” He leaned back and shrugged. “You’d think I’d learn something with the time I have.”

Jim nodded his head a little. “How are you so sure they won’t take you to a hospital?” 

The man’s eyes crinkled a little. “I told them I was drunk and wanted to wait it out.”

Jim laughed. “That is genius.” 

“We are a genius despite what anyone says,” commented the man. 

Jim’s brow furrowed again. “We?” 

The man stilled. “Uhhhhhhhh.”

Footsteps grew closer to the cell and Officer Johnson addressed the stranger. “Mr. Trevor, do you feel sober enough to drive home?” 

Mr. Trevor rose to his feet and slinked his way over to the cell door. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I am good to go!” 

Officer Johnson went to open the door. 

Mr. Trevor turned his head to Jim and lowered the scarf a little to give him a bit of a smirk. “Don’t read into it, Jimmy.” 

How’d he know Jim’s name? 

Before Jim could question Mr. Trevor the man jumped, a full body kinda thing, and hissed, “ _ Get me out of here _ .” He exited the room like his pants were on fire.

A shiver ran up Jim’s spine. Creepy ass man.

It wasn’t long after Mr. Trevor left that Jim heard a familiar whirrrrrring, but Mr. Trevor hadn’t looked anything like the man in the blue box. 

Jim’s eyes grew a little wide. But his visible features had been nearly identical to the other man in the photograph. 

Jim shifted onto his side until Pike came to take him home. He’d have to remember to ask T’Palla who the discoverer of the information was, but first he’d give Pike a piece of his mind. 

…

 

“I don’t need you baby sitting me all right?” snapped Jim when he crossed the threshold of the Kirk house. “You have no obligations toward me!” He passed the kitchen and headed into the living space where he kept his back toward Pike.

Pike was quiet, which Jim knew to be semi-deadly, but Jim wasn’t done being a little shit. “You can’t just pop up every so often and try to take hold of my life like you’re my dad!”

“I’m not trying to be your dad,” snapped Pike. “Jim, you could have gotten hurt tonight and—” 

Jim whirled around and held his arms out. “And that isn’t any of your concern!” 

Pike flinched back and ground his teeth together. “You are my concern!” Pike threw his arms down at his sides. “Winona put me in charge while they are away and you are my concern, James!”

Jim crossed his arms and scowled. “Well you have no obligations to do that. You have no obligations to do anything just because you were fucking my dad!”

That’s when Jim knew he must’ve stepped a little too far because he actually liked Christopher Pike and actually liked having the man in his life.

Maybe deep down Jim just felt like a burden on the man. Jim sagged and stared down at his feet then back up at Pike. “ _ I didn’t _ …” 

Pike held his hand up to stop Jim from continuing. “I’m going to walk away.” 

Pike was going to leave. 

“I’m stopping you there and walking away.” 

Something in the back of Jim’s mind told him Pike wouldn’t come back. 

Jim’s chest squeezed and instead of apologizing he just plopped down on the couch. 

…

 

“I was a terrible person.” Jim stared up at the ceiling of the family home. 

“Was?” T’Palla was carding her fingers in Jim’s hair while they reclined on the couch. “I feel as if we are always trying to mold ourselves into someone our future selves will be proud of and you've been taking a lot of steps toward change recently.” 

Jim flickered his eyes up at her and grinned. 

“I still can’t believe you chose blue.” She was of course talking about his eyes. “You got fangs as well. Only you…” 

Jim chuckled. “Anything else you want to say about my cosmetic changes?” 

T’Palla made a hmmm noise and pouted her lips. “I don’t think stubble is for you.” Her rose-painted nails scratched at Jim’s growing stubble.

Jim loved when T’Palla visited. He waggled his feet and grinned a little. “Ladies love stubble.” 

T’Palla laughed a little and went back to gently playing with Jim’s short hair. “This lady thinks you need to shave and check yourself before you wreck yourself.” 

Jim puffed his cheeks up a little then sighed. “I chased Pike off before I learned how to shave my face.”

“Hmmmmmm. What about Oscar? He is an adult human male with a lot of facial hair.” 

Jim laughed at that. “I've never seen Oscar shave anything but sheep in my life time.”

T’Palla was so… different. 

A good different. She had a job at the museum, a girlfriend, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t seen her bad days.

From Jim’s eyes she had so much going well for her. 

Jim frowned a little and he was still stuck on crack theories about uncharted planets and the man with the blue box.

“Are you proud of who you were three years ago?” asked Jim. Jim looked back on his life and often felt… disgusted. He'd done so many shitty things it was a wonder anyone ever stuck around. 

T’Palla’s fingers froze and her hands fell down to the couch. “No. I’m not even proud of who I am now.”

Jim frowned. “Will we ever be proud of ourselves?” 

“We have time,” replied T’Palla, “and in the meantime we can be support.” 

Jim laughed and settled back against her with a smile. T’Palla was great. “Got any more donations from Steve Trevor? Which sounds like such a fake name.” 

T’Palla sighed.

Jim frowned a little, sat up right, and looked to T’Palla. He furrowed his brow and then looked down. They should talk about something else. Do something else. This wallowing in their past wasn’t good for either of them. “Want to watch a movie?” 

T’Palla smiled a little. “I’m proud of you, Jim.”

Jim felt something stab at his chest and looked up at her. “Even though I’m an ass?” 

T’Palla shook her head. “Not the asshole part, but I am proud of you for starting to change.”

“Is that a yes on the movie?” asked Jim with a raised brow. 

T’Palla squinted at him. “We watch Wonder Woman or nothing at all.” 

Jim rose from the couch and stretched his back until it popped. “Got it. I'll go grab the best jewish boy called Spiderman.” 

“... Was Spiderman jewish?” asked T’Palla with a furrowed brow. 

Jim chewed on his lower lip and tilted his head in thought. “I mean… why couldn't he be? I think in one of the old movies they had him step on a glass at his own wedding.” 

T’Palla bounced a bit on her butt. “Fascinating… I’m not against watching Spiderman.”

“I’ll go grab Wonder Woman.” Jim turned his back to her. 

“Thank you, Jim,” said T’palla. 

Jim was nearly up the stairs when she called out again. “Oh and Jim?” 

Jim looked back over at her. 

T’Palla had a grin spread across her face. “I do believe the best jewish boy is Spock...” She raised her eyebrows in a knowing way. “Wouldn't you agree?”

Jim felt his face heat up and he just speed walked out of the room. 

 

…

  
  


Jim sank into the couch and sighed. He should be happy, but even when he is happy he wonders sometimes if it’s true happiness. “I’m twenty two, Spock, and at this point I am convinced some people aren’t meant to be happy.”

“I would not be the person to discuss happiness with, James,” replied Spock.

They weren’t even playing chess this go around. They were watching TV, the same channel, the same movie, and it was actually pretty nice. 

“You’re half human,” replied Jim with a small smile as the movie played. It was some old romance movie. “You must feel happiness sometimes.” 

Spock sighed. “I think we just do not allow ourselves to feel happiness, and it fascinates me that you do not allow yourself to experience what humans call euphoria.”

“Oh they are finally going to sleep together!” shouted Jim as he rose from the couch to make some tea. 

“You have seen this before?” asked Spock. 

Jim had seen this movie more times than he let Spock know. “Gives me hope when I have my ‘I will never have meaningful relationships’ moments. They start out hating each other, get separated often, and yet they keep running into each other.”  

Spock made a hmmmm noise and paused momentarily. 

Jim counted the pause out in his head and simultaneously with Spock he said, “ _ Fascinating _ .” 

Jim then bursted into laughter and leaned against the kitchen counter. He could still see the television from here and smiled a little. 

“Do you feel like your life is incomplete, James?” 

Jim swallowed thickly, turned to the hot water, and then poured it in a worn in mug that had a sunflower pattern on it. “Way too often, Spock.” He waited for the tea bag to seep before he mumbled, “way too often.” 

“They are in fact having intercourse with one another,” responded Spock. 

Jim smiled to himself a little. “You ever sleep with someone, Spock?”

“I have not felt the need to have intercourse.” 

Jim returned to the couch, plopped down with his tea, and in doing so he spilt it on himself. “Oh come on.” 

“No, I have in fact not had intercourse,” repeated Spock in that monotone way. 

Jim laughed. “I wasn’t ‘Oh come on’ing at you. I spilled my tea on myself.” 

Spock actually  _ gasped _ . “As T’Palla picked up from you, a tragedy.” 

Jim covered his mouth with his hand and chuckled a little more. “I don’t enjoy it.” 

Spock was silent for some time. “You are talking about intercourse, correct?” 

Jim felt his cheeks flush red. He knew the reputation he made for himself extended past Riverside.

“I’ve slept with a few people, but I just… haven’t liked any of it.”

Spock was silent for some time the movie playing on. “Then why do you continue if you gain no pleasure?” 

Jim sighed. “Maybe I’m punishing myself, Spock.” 

“I do wish you would stop that.” Jim liked that Spock cared. Even if the vulcan wouldn’t admit to it. 

“You and T’Palla both.” Jim’s chest squeezed and he took a sip of his tea. “But thanks, Spock.”

“Thanks for what?” 

Jim smirked into his mug. “For caring.” 

“Jim?” 

“Yes, Spock?” Jim put his feet up on the couch and snuggled into the arm of it. 

“Have you considered joining Starfleet like your guardian?”

Jim groaned and sank deeper into the couch. Spock had been bringing up Starfleet frequently and Jim didn’t usually think much of it. 

Maybe Starfleet would give him the structure he was missing. “I’ll consider it, Spock.”

 

...

 

Jim had been thinking. It was normal for his mind to always be running a few miles ahead of his body.

Jim had so much to think about and he felt like there was never enough time to do it. 

He just knew he needed to change because he couldn’t keep going. Couldn’t keep letting his mind burn his body. 

He’d gone out to think and on the way he just got drunk at one of Riverside’s only bars.

He brought his glass to his lips, took a long sip, and made a face. 

Jim wasn’t sure what he didn’t like about gin and tonic. Was it the gin or the tonic water? He was a little too pleasantly tipsy currently to  _ care _ and he just wanted them to keep on coming until Sal cut him off or until he got into a bar fight. 

Which there was a high possibility that would happen with all of these fleet cadets in the same bar and Jim’s nature to say something wrong. 

“Hi. I'd like a Klavnian fire tea,” said the smoothest voice Jim had ever heard. 

Jim leaned against the bartop to get a good look at the woman. A fleet cadet. Jim could almost take her for a Vulcan with the way she was carrying herself, but a lack of pointed ears made it known she was more than likely 100% human. Jim couldn’t be certain with many species being human like.

“...Three Budweiser classics, two Cardassian sunrises, and a…” She pouted her lips out and scrunched her face up in concentration down at the menu. 

Sal leaned forward just a bit. “How about you try the Slusho? It’s pretty good.” 

The woman smiled at him. “The slusho mix? That sounds good, thank you.” 

Sal nodded and went about to making the drinks. 

Jim bit his lower lip and leaned a little too far forward. He knocked into his drink and had it come crashing down on the counter. The sound of glass hitting the counter had Jim squealing just a little. Commit to it Kirk. Commit to the awkward moment. He leaned fully into the mess and smiled at the cadet. “That’s uh… a lot of drinks,” commented Jim with what he hoped was a sly little grin. Even as the drink collected on his jacket and sleeves. 

Sal shook his head, and went back to making the cadet’s drinks. 

The cadet who was looking at Jim like he was the worst person in the place. She then looked back to Sal. “Can I also get one shot of Jack Daniels?” She asked Sal. 

Jim could feel his face flush red as a grin split across his face. “Two shots!” He exclaimed.

The cadet snapped her head at Jim and scowled at him. “I’m not buying you a shot.” 

Jim waggled his brows a bit. “Then let me buy you a shot.” 

She laughed something sharp. “I can buy my own drinks, but thanks for the offer.” 

Jim looked at the alien next to him, then rose to his feet, and unsteadily switched seats with them. “Don’t you at least want to know my name before you reject me completely?”

She gave Jim this ‘You can drop dead’ look and said, “I’m fine without it.”

Jim should leave her alone and not continue to pursue her. “You are pretty  _ fine  _ without it,” purred Jim with what he knew was a stupid asshole grin. Stop it Kirk. Walk away. 

The cadet rolled her eyes and mumbled something under her breath. 

“It’s Kirk,” purred Jim as he leaned against the counter again, this time facing her, and intertwining his hands. “Jim Kirk.”

She sighed heavily and tapped at the counter top. 

Jim rolled his tongue over his teeth and clicked it against the roof of his mouth. “Do you have a name? And if you don’t I can always make one up.” Jim grinned at her. 

She sent a glare his way and cocked her hip into the bar. “Do you understand hints?” 

Jim shrugged and looked toward the rest of the bar. People lived their lives beyond them, drinking, enjoying what time they had, and that was just a little interesting. 

That people could live their lives unburdened by the shit that goes on in their own heads. “Sorry. Hints kinda go way over my head.” He looked back to her and gave a strained smile. “I’m gonna start saying random names until you give me one. Hmmmmm. Nyome?”

She sighed heavily. “Does this work on most women?”

“You sound like my friend.” Jim tilted his head. “Her name is T’Palla and quite frankly she is always reminding me to shut up and sip on some respect women juice.”

The cadet snorted just a little and had a small strained grin. She sighed again and looked to Jim. “I like the sound of her.” Most people did like T’Palla even when they haven’t met her. “You can call me Uhura.”

Jim scrunched his face up a little and grinned wide. “Uhura, huh?” He chuckled a little and moved his limbs loosely. “What are you studying?” 

Uhura smiled a little and looked out toward the others in the bar. “Xenolinguistics.” She looked up at Jim and scrunched her nose up a little. “Do you know what that is?” 

Jim nodded at her. He knew exactly what it was and would be proud to show off just a little smarts. “It’s the study of alien languages, morphology, phonology, syntax,” said Jim. “And if I may add in a little harmless flirting, it means you have a talented tongue.” Jim leaned a little away from her and relaxed against the counter. 

“Harmless flirting?” Uhura rolled her eyes, laughed, and adjusted Jim’s jacket collar just the slightest bit. “I’m impressed.” 

Jim rested his chin in the palm of his hand and felt a giddy feeling in his chest. 

“For a moment I thought you were just some dumb hick who only has sex with farm animals.” 

That giddy feeling tumbled into his stomach, where it settled as a hard ball, and Jim tried his hardest to not let that comment get to him. It took him only a second to retaliate with a seductive grin and low purred, “Not only.” 

Uhura’s grin was nearly forced, like she must’ve seen something crumble inside of Jim, but she played it off with a laugh. “Aren’t you charming.” 

Jim was leaning in further to throw in a little more Kirk charm and then some beefy bald guy nudged his way halfway between them. 

“This townie isn’t bothering you, right?” 

Jim narrowed his eyes at the guy. He wasn’t trying to bother Uhura. She was just one of the most approachable people in the place and he was tired of drowning in the contemplations of gin and tonic.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” responded Uhura, giving the guy a bit of a cold shoulder to return to the conversation she was having with Jim. 

Jim smiled at her and waggled his brows playfully. “You certainly can handle me. If that is an invitation.”

Uhura was in the beginnings of laughter when bald and beefy interrupted again. “Watch your manners, farmboy.” 

Jim was already so done with this asshole. He turns to the guy and flaps his hands a little in thought of what to say. He settled on scoffing and said, “Relax, Cupcake, it’s just some harmless fun.” 

He gently nudged Cupcake with his hand in a playful motion and like a true asshole Cupcake grabbed Jim by his shirt collar and pulled him near a circle of cadets.

Cupcake’s voice was low, threatening, and his breath was all too stinky. “Because you can’t seem to count—” 

And ouch another dumb farm hick comment. Just because Jim lived in fucking Riverside on a farm didn’t make him stupid! 

“—There are four of us and one of you!” 

Jim rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Well, get some more guys and maybe we’d have an even fight.” He jerked out of Cupcake’s hold, smiled at him, patted his face, and then went to turn back to Uhura.

Jim had always been a little afraid of fist fights, but in the same breath he’d fucking throw down with anyone who harmed someone who didn’t deserve to be hurt. 

Like T’Palla who begged Jim multiple times that she wasn’t worth him getting physically injured. 

Even though some xenophobic asshole was shouting at her to go back to her own planet. 

Jim couldn’t stand it, but he accepted that fists weren’t the usual answer after the fifth trip to the hospital because he’d broken a bone or had gotten too beat up. 

Cupcake’s arm clapped Jim’s shoulder and before Jim could even let out a heavy sigh he was spun around and had a fist meet the side of his face. 

Which had just enough force to send him into the bar counter. 

Jim blinked a bit and moved his jaw. Fuck. 

Jim could walk away take a page from T’Palla’s book of thinking and holding himself back. 

Jim could only hold back so much. He was human after all and being human meant that some point the suppressed emotions would be too much.

“Guys,” commanded Uhura. “Stop it.” 

Now Uhura carried herself pretty well and Jim was sure in a more sobering state of mind he’d be all for her defending this little interaction they’d been having; however, Jim wasn’t sober and T’Palla wasn’t here to give him shit about getting into a fight.

Jim clenched his fist. If they wanted a dumb farm hick, they’d get one. He scowled, and flung himself back around at Cupcake. 

Cupcake had gone for another swing and Jim braced himself against the counter and kicked.

He made contact with Cupcake’s chest which sent the cadet skittering across the bar. 

Jim whooped, pushed off the counter, grinned wide, and for a moment forgot about the other three. 

Until one of the others went for a few punches. 

Which Jim tried to block as best he could. Training with Winona Kirk paid off in a way. 

Sure, they probably didn’t want Jim to use this combat and defence training in a bar fight, but it sure did come in handy. 

Perks of a parent who worked in Starfleet. 

The guy pulled back to collect himself and try again. 

Jim saw his opening, pivoted himself back, then sent the cadet into one of the tables with a not so calculated shove, and palm slam to the hard parts of the other’s face. 

He had little time to react to the next guy taking a swing at him. He ducked with a shrill squeak from his throat, and then he popped back up just in time to get kicked into Uhura.

Uhura held him for a moment, blinked down at him as he was pressed into her chest, and then she pushed him away with a scowl. 

The push sent him right back into the awaiting arms of the other cadets who grabbed him around the chest so he couldn’t fight back, then they tossed him onto a table, and everything kinda went downhill from there. 

As if to say things hadn’t already gone downhill. Jim mentally sighed and ragdolled against the table. 

He deserved this. 

There was a high pitched loud whistle, something that reminded Jim of someone from a long time ago, and then the owner of the whistle commanded, “All of you, outside now!”

Many cadets groaned, “Yes, sir.” Along with a bunch of other things Jim had heard throughout his life. 

Jim groaned, “Not you.” 

Christopher Pike came into his blurred out vision. He was older. Showing his age with greying hairs, frown lines, and crinkles by his eyes. 

“Hi, Jim.” 

Jim sighed heavily and closed his eyes for a moment. “Can I get some water and a napkin?”

...

 

Jim leaned back in the bar chair and squinted at Christopher Pike. Jim hadn't seen him in a while. 

“It’s been a while,” muttered Pike as he fiddled with the napkin dispenser. 

“Six years,” replied Jim. “I’m sorry by the way. I was out of hand.”

Jim could admit he was a shitty kid.

“We have to stop meeting like this, Jim.” Pike gave the smallest smile.

Jim frowned. Meeting Jim in a situation where he was a dumbass. Sneaking out of the house? A dumbass move. 

Starting a bar fight with starfleet cadets? Dumbass. 

Jim scowled and motioned to the bartender to give him another drink. “What?”

Pike’s eyes softened then crinkled with a grin. “I just can't believe it's you,” responded Pike. “You were this high the last time I saw you.” 

Pike did that thing adults do where they estimate just how tall children were the last time they saw them. 

He’d been a short teenager. 

“What do you want?” asked Jim as he took up a napkin, twisted it up, and then shoved it in his nostrils. 

Pike’s grin dropped, so did his arm, then he crossed his arms, leaned back in the chair, and heaved a heavy sigh. “You ever get tired of all this?” 

“Maybe I love this.” Jim said with a raise of both of his brows. “Maybe I don’t need you popping in and out of my life. I get enough of that from the Parental Unit.”

Pike scowled. “Jim.” 

Jim got his drink, stared down at the contents of the glass, and then took a sip. Water was so good. Jim sighed. It wasn’t fair. “I know.” He shouldn't be cross with Pike. He just cared like Winona. “I’m sorry. Continue.”

Cared like T’Palla. 

Jim should call her.

“You are the only genius repeat offender in the midwest,” began Pike, “do you get tired of it? Don't you wish you could do something else? Use that brain of yours for something that doesn't involve reckless driving or car theft?” 

Jim sighed into his drink. “This sounds like a pitch.” He waggled his brows and took another sip. 

Pike bit at his lower lip. “I can stop here.” 

Jim leaned forward and pointed at Pike. “No. Continue.” 

Jim wanted to hear it. Wanted to hear the words Pike had to say. He was tired. Bored. 

Bored of Iowa. Tired of living in an empty Iowa farm house even though Winona was just working odd hours at the shipyard. 

“You have skills that could be beneficial and increased at Starfleet Academy,” continued Pike. “Hell, you could be out in four years and have your own ship in eight. You'd be doing something and out there in the stars.” 

Curse Pike for knowing Jim’s weakness of space. “I can do the same thing becoming a space pirate,” responded Jim with a big grin. Of course he was just playing. 

Pike cracked the smallest smile before narrowing his eyes at Jim. “Son, you are in charge of yourself. Starfleet is just an option.” He rose to his feet. 

Jim lifted his head and blinked. “Window of opportunity?” 

Pike smirked. “Riverside Shipyard. Oh eight hundred.” 

Eight in the morning???? Jim couldn't remember the last time he saw nine in the morning let alone eight. 

He'd have to not get any sleep if he wanted to be there on time. 

“We’ll see.” Jim pressed his lips together. “Have a safe trip.”

Pike left. 

Jim finished his drink, then exited the bar, it was dark, lit up with a few outdoor lights, and the stars. 

Beautiful, really. 

He then pulled his phone out and messaged T’Palla on his way to his hover bike. 

 

**Kirk, J.: Got in a bar fight ://// I am. The injured.**

 

**Sayat t’Run, T.: Jim. I'm giving a tour right now. What is it?**

 

**Kirk, J.: I'm drunk-ish and signing up for Starfleet in…**

 

Jim squinted at the time on his screen. God. Was it really only one in the morning? 

 

**Kirk, J.: … hours! Hours T’Palla! Me! Starfleet!**

 

**Sayat t’Run, T.: …… One moment I'm showing emotion and sending Vulcan children on an illogical scavenger hunt.**

 

Jim leaned against the building and rubbed at his face. He should call Winona to come get him. He should— 

His head spun. 

Hoooo boy. He should sit down.

He did just that. Slid down the wall and took a seat while he waited for T’Palla to get back to him. 

He thought she'd just message him back, but his phone rang with a video call. 

Jim fumbled with the keys until he finally accepted the call. 

“You look…” T’Palla furrowed her brow. “What is the human water creature with tusks? Walrus. You look like a walrus.” 

“Hahaha.” Jim huffed and leaned his head into his shoulder. “I said I was injured.” 

T’Palla nodded, she looked like she was in the museum, and she probably was. “Starfleet. You know Spock is in Starfleet.” 

“Is he?” asked Jim with a raise of his brow. 

“Yeah he totally pulled a ‘live long and go fuck yourself’ on the Vulcan Science Academy.” T’Palla smoothed her fingers over her head scarf. Today's was deep olive with gold accents and T’Palla looked beautiful. “I'm happy to hear that you will be attending Starfleet Academy, or are at least thinking about it.” 

Jim took in a deep breath. “I don't know how I feel. I want to do it, but also it's Starfleet.” 

Where had Starfleet been when they were starving on Tarsus IV?

Jim wanted something more, but was Starfleet really his answer? 

“You'll figure it out,” said T’Palla. “You are James Tiberius Kirk, after all.”

...

 

Jim rode up to the loading station. He was far too tired for this, but this would be worth it, right? Worth the wrong turns and his bumpy start to life. 

“Nice bike,” commented a worker. 

Jim blinked, realized he’d been just standing there staring at the craft, staring at Pike who was near the loading ramp making last minute checks, and then he turned to the worker. “It’s yours.” He tossed the keys at the guy and took in a deep breath. 

Now or never.

He strolled up to Pike and tapped him on the shoulder. “I’ll do it in three years.” 

Pike’s eyes went wide and he blinked.

Jim was still pretty roughed up from the night before, but now with added dark circles from the lack of sleep. 

“You know what. That doesn’t even surprise me.” Pike then craned his neck up at the shuttle and looked back to Jim. “Go find a seat.”

“Right.” Jim took in a deep breath and entered the shuttle craft. 

Of course he felt eyes on him the moment he walked in. Of course they were on him, he’d been the asshole who started a fight the night before. A forced grin split his face. “Heyyyy, Cupcake.” 

Cupcake, of course, scowled at Jim. 

Jim sucked on his lower lip, slowly nodded as he continued on his way, smacked his head on a low hanging beam, and then scurried away to find a seat away from the group. 

He spotted the woman from earlier in the day, noted two free seats across from her, and took long strides to snag one of them. “Hey,” said Jim in a greeting. “Uhura right? No first name?” He grinned at her. 

She gave a small grin back and raised a brow. “Not one that you will be getting.” 

Jim nodded and began to fiddle with the buckles. “That’s fair.” He glanced at the empty seat and then back up at her. “I’m sorry about the bar and… that other thing.” 

Uhura’s gaze leveled with Jim’s. She furrowed her brow and tilted her head. “What was your na—” 

“You need a doctor,” commanded the firm tone of one of the Lieutenants on the craft. 

Jim’s heart nearly stopped at the gruff response. “I told you people, I don’t need a doctor.” 

It couldn’t be. Jim’s head whirled around to try and get a glimpse of the owner. 

“I am a doctor.” Different clothes, older than he was on Tarsus, but it was unmistakable. 

Jim’s breath hitched, he bolted up right from his seat, and nearly scrambled over the other row to get to the man. “ _ YOU! _ ”

All eyes were on Jim again, but it was worth it this time to see the man’s pupils contract. Almost in recognition, then they hardened, and slitted. 

_ Oh no _ . Jim fell back into the seat with a ghosting sensation of terror traveling down his spine. 

“ **_You_ ** ,” snarled the man.

_ Oh fuck _ .

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This... is so long I'm screaming and crying internally. 
> 
> It's a New Year everyone! and that means me trying to combat my depression and get shit done. Hope you enjoy this chapter and I'll see Y'all next time. Whenever... next time is.


	4. This is Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Alcoholism, Unhealthy coping mechanisms, canon character death, and some swearing. Listen. There is some sads in this.

“Are we done acting up? Was that enough of a trip for you?” hissed the Doctor with narrowed eyes trained on his glowing console. 

The ship made a series of whirring noises in response as the white smoke dissipated into a light clear mist. 

At least it wasn’t on fire anymore and at least he could fucking breathe. 

“I ain’t grumpy!” shouted the Doctor as he scowled down at his ill fitting clothes. He wouldn’t’ve had to regenerate if that asshole hadn’t pushed him off a goddamn edge and straight into his Tardis console. 

That had somehow decided to burst into flames!

He couldn’t blame the old space and time machine. It had been his mother’s afterall. 

He curled his fingers against the console as the machine made a shrill whirring noise. Fantastic. He’d left the parking brake on. 

“Where are we now?” He asked with a slow lean of his body against the console and a drag of his fingers over to the view screen. 

His hearts dropped into his stomach. “Atlanta, Georgia,” muttered the Doctor. “2245. July fourth.” He peered down at the console and then back up. “You took me home.”

It was some time for her to be quiet, but that was okay. 

He couldn’t run away forever.

He pushed off the console and slowly padded toward the door. 

He took in a deep breath and then pushed the doors open. 

The room he entered was pitch black and smelled stale. 

Like someone hadn’t been present in years. 

He knew he was home and that this was his bedroom. He knew if he turned the lights on the room would be dust coated, stuffed toys would litter the bed with wrappings covering up ill attempted sewing, it’d be all too bare, and all too personable just the same. 

“You would take me home.” He walked further into the room and the Tardis doors shut behind him making the darkness more prominent. 

“You know I could use a light,” groused the Doctor with a small squint of his eyes. 

The Tardis casted a simple cool toned light. 

The room came into a clearer view. Dust particles danced in the air, but the bed looked clean. A simple patchwork quilt laid across it and those stuffed animals no longer had their wrappings on them. 

He didn’t want to spend too much time examining a room he knew he’d just be leaving or at least redecorating. 

The room read ‘seventeen year old girl’ and sure he wasn’t 100% on the age of his current body, but he hadn’t been a seventeen year old girl in… probably a year. 

Time was non existent when running from all his problems in a Tardis, but it had—probably—only been one year. 

He glanced toward the door that had boy band posters plastered to its surface. Coupled with a few medical diagrams. 

He’d wanted to go to medical school like other terrans who dreamed about future jobs and avenues of life. 

He could still do that. Become a doctor. A real one like his father.

He walked toward the door and opened it. 

The hinges creaked and the floorboards beneath his feet squeaked. 

It made him nearly smile in the remembrance of his mother. He always knew when she was coming to tell him some fascinating story about her ‘past’ because the floor board would creak. 

They were often stories about her people, the planet that belonged to the time lords, the adventures she went on in that same Tardis that she had left him, and the stories of how she had met her second and last husband. 

Who must’ve still at least paid for the house. 

“Leonard?” came a voice from below that made his hearts stall for a brief moment. 

It’d been a while since he was called Leonard. 

He swallowed a thick lump that had formed in his throat. Instead of responding he looked toward the staircase. The house was mostly dark like he’d shown up in the odd hours of the night, but there was a warm glow coming from just beyond the upstairs. 

It illuminated the wall of family photos. Pictures of a young hazel eyed girl clad in overalls with her gapped teeth on full display and the flash of light dancing in her eyes. 

Next to that picture was one of the same girl, she was older with shorter hair and heavy gothic makeup. Surrounded by the bright cheery faces of her family. A mother with a kind smile, a father with cheerfully blue eyes, and another sibling who looked nothing like either parent. 

He walked toward the stairs and stood at the top.

“If you don’t answer I’ll just eat this entire pizza by myself,” called out the voice again. Male in origin, but shaking with age. 

“It’s me,” replied the Doct—no. Leonard. He wasn’t planning on going back out there. “It’s Leonard.” 

There was a momentary pause. So momentary that Leonard could hear the Tardis re-cloaking as he nearly raced down the stairs to greet whoever was there. 

The light came from the kitchen and Leonard had to go through the living room to get to the kitchen. The television in the living space was advertising something for a reform school on Tarsus IV. A planet Leonard knew would be all over the news in the coming year. 

He entered the kitchen and saw a nearly haggard looking old man. Nearly. He still had kind wrinkles near his eyes and a head of hair that wasn’t thinning persay, but it was definitely white. That elderly man stared right at Leonard with an open steaming greasy pizza box sitting on the table.

“I’m home,” whispered Leonard with a nearly there smile.

David McCoy squinted at his son and tilted his head. “I imagined you’d look older.” 

Leonard sagged, the comment was to be taken as a joke, and Leonard even chuckled at it. “How old do I look?”

“Eighteen.” 

Just a year older than he was the day he left. 

“You look your age,” muttered the older man. 

Leonard made a noise in the back of his throat and shrugged. “Debatable.” His mother had always said he acted like a forty four year old man.

“How long are you staying?” asked David as he took up a slice of pizza. 

Leonard furrowed his brow and looked down at his feet. Something constricted his chest when he thought of going back out there into the darkness. What was in space anymore? Certain death for one and for another there were still places he had yet to visit. Places he hadn’t yet explored in the memory of his mother. 

He decided the constricted feeling in his chest was fear. Fear of the unknown. Of dying out there again. “Forever.” He was done with space. “I’m home forever.” 

“Your mama wouldn’t like to hear that,” muttered David with a soft smile as he took a seat at the kitchen table. “She said the same thing once and yet that Tardis is here.” 

Leonard walked over to the table and sat across from his father. “And up there it will sit.”

“She left that for you. You use to say you were going to explore the stars just like her.” David took a bite of pizza and stared at his son. 

Leonard’s lips twitched just a little. He’d been different back then. A gapped tooth kid with dreams and the time to fulfil them. “Then I fell from a tree, broke my arm, and got a fear of heights.” 

David took the momentary silence to chew thoughtfully on the pizza chunk in his mouth. He swallowed and gave Leonard this little look. Something that translated to silent judgement in Leonard’s eyes. A raised brow with those blue eyes burning a hole in his chest. “Did you fall from a space tree and gain a fear of space?”

Leonard felt his cheeks heat up and he glanced away. “Actually some idiot pushed me into Mum’s Tardis and I gained the fear of dying out in space.” 

David shrugged. “I fell into her Tardis once. Woke up with a new body because she forgot to open the swimming pool.” 

Leonard swore he was going to bust his gut with how hard he laughed. “Yeah well. I’m never going to see him again.” 

David made a hmmmmm noise and took another bite of his pizza. “You want some pizza?” 

Leonard squinted his eyes at his father and then got up from the table. “What’s with the ‘hmmm’ noise?” He wandered over to the counter where the pizza laid. 

“Without saying too much... you will meet him again.” 

Leonard whirled his head around at his father and cuffed out a laugh. “I will not be meeting that asshole.” He walked back over to the table with the pizza and slapped it down on the table top. “He called me Bones for fuck sake.” He rolled his eyes and sat back down. It meant they were friendly or overly friendly. “I don’t want to know how I get that goddamn nickname.”

David raised both of his brows and angled his head a bit. 

Leonard could swear he was probably as red as a tomato. “Don’t give me that look.” 

David said nothing and continued to eat his pizza with a little wrinkled smirk. 

Leonard took up a slice and ate it with devoted frustration. So he’d meet this asshole. 

Technically he’d already met this self sacrificing asshole, but this self sacrificing asshole hadn’t met him. 

He’d have to meet Leonard in order for Leonard to be here.  

He swallowed down the chewed up crust and leaned his elbows on the table. “So, I meet this asshole eventually,” snapped Leonard after he finished the slice. “I’ll still ring his neck the moment I see him for pushing me.” His alive version of course. There was no doubt in Leonard’s mind that the man back in the library was as dead as dead could get. 

“But, son, you've already put it in motion.” 

Leonard scowled and picked up a new slice of pizza. “Dad, I’m home for good and you saying I'm going to go out and meet this asshole again? Isn't gonna happen.” 

David sighed heavily. “What do you plan on doing while you are here then?” 

Leonard pressed his lips together and thought about the medical diagrams and hours of study he had put into biology and xenobiology. “Medical school.” 

David smiled at that and looked down at the pizza. “Where you thinking of going?” 

Leonard made a hmmm noise and rolled his entire body. “Mississippi.”

…

 

Leonard’s eyes were glued to the screen of the television in his shoe box of a dorm room. He could be out in the common room watching this with the rest of the idiots on this side of campus, intensely focused on the broadcast of Tarsus IV. The planet was plastered all over like he knew it would be those months ago. 

He should be studying for his test in psychology in the coming day, but he couldn’t tear himself away from the news on the terran colony. 

The planet was in the beginning stages. Their only food supply had been tainted. 

People were going to die of starvation and Kodos would solve that by holding mass executions. 

What happens afterwards Leonard didn't know.

Leonard only knew what he had been a part of. What little that food would do for those kids. 

He thought of that young kid who’d come out dirty, frail looking, and curious about who had just fallen from the sky. 

Maybe that kid had thought the worst. Maybe they’d thought Kodos’ men had found them or worse. 

“They’ll live,” he told himself. “They’ll live because of you.” 

Because he had given them food. Because he had shown up when he did. 

Leonard snapped his head back down toward his psychology work. 

He shut the book, set it in his lap, and ran his fingers through his hair. “Six months of this shit…” He’d have to watch this for six months. 

Well he didn’t have to, but he would. He would be glued to every moment of the news on the colony. 

He sighed heavily and turned off the television. “Looks like I’m going to study in the library.” 

He rose from his spot on the uncomfortable dorm bed. 

A knock came from his door and he whipped his head around toward it. “Uh…” He glanced around the room. “One minute!” 

He set the book down on the bed and swiftly toed his way over to the door. With a whoosh it opened to someone who didn’t look entirely human, and Leonard knew better. 

Xe were a Silurian. Silurians resembled the Gorn only in lizard features, but were 100% of Tarren decent. Not to mention they were a little more humanized than the Gorn. 

This particular individual was named Rastre and instead of vibrant green xyr skin was a more muted green with desaturated brown accents. 

Xe wanted to be a psychologist and Leonard had psychology with xem.

Leonard would be seeing xem for several more years if xe didn't change their major.

“The news is depressing,” said Rastre. “So I was wondering if you wanted to get some ice cream?” 

Leonard squinted at the other and furrowed his brow. “Why the fuck would I want to go get ice cream with you?” Not to mention he had to study for that goddamn test. Tarsus IV might be crumbling, but here on earth life did move forward. 

A little slowly, but forward. 

Xe gave Leonard this little look that could be translated pretty well even without the eyebrows. A little flirty and suggestive. “You want to go get drunk then?”

Leonard really should study. “I’ll take you up on the booze.”

“I know a great karaoke place.” Rastre smiled at him with sharpened teeth. “You humans are always easy to sway with booze."

Leonard bit into his lower lip. Human. He was far from human, but it was easy for him to blend in with humans. “I ain’t doing karaoke.” He exited the dorm room after picking up some easy to slip on shoes. 

Rastre pouted, but then grinned. “I’m not really going to be drinking.” 

Leonard angled his head at xem. “Fair.”

...

 

Alcohol wasn’t the best of coping mechanisms for any problems, but hell it was really doing something for Leonard’s problems. 

That was probably because Leonard was past the threshold of tipsy and drowning in straight up drunk territory. 

Rastre had abandoned him long ago to frolic among those in the bar, and Leonard couldn’t really care. 

He was ordering another whisky sour to drown in when this older woman with long black hair swooped over. Leonard wasn’t sure if that was her natural color. “Put that on me,” she said. 

It wasn’t like she was older as in ancient, but maybe two or three years older than Leonard was currently. 

“I really shouldn’t drink another one,” said Leonard. 

She grinned at him with a shine in her blue gaze. “Then why are you ordering one?” 

“Because…” Leonard made a noise in the back of his throat. “I’m drunk.”

She tilted her head at him. “Hi, drunk, I’m Jocelyn .” 

Leonard had to laugh a little at that. “You have dad jokes.” 

Jocelyn  leaned into his space with a soft smile. “I have dad jokes.”

Jocelyn  nodded. “Do you want me to call you a ride?”

Leonard squinted at her and nodded. “Yeah.”

…

 

Leonard punched the mirror and screamed at his cracked reflection as red blood dripped slow into the pristine white sink. 

This face was his, it always was his, he wasn’t use to it being his, and in the same breath he didn’t want this face. He would have been so content riding his mother’s memories out in the stars, but half of him knew the stars were not for him. All of time and space was not for him.

The other half wanted travel, but traveling would lead him to finding that danger seeking asshole that would lead to his past self’s own demise. 

He met his own hazel eyes in the mirror distorted with the broken reflective surface. 

Leonard slumped his shoulders and ran the water in the sink. 

A question always lingered, unspoken and unanswered. What if he had already started the series of events that would lead him to the stranger?

He sighed heavily and cleaned up his hand. 

 

…

 

“Why are you so focused on Tarsus IV?” asked David McCoy over a video com one day. 

Leonard glanced away from his papa’s face on the screen. “It’s just… around. It’s hard to avoid.” He was worried. What if he had arrived too early in the timeline? What if he hadn’t given the kid enough food to stay alive? What even was the child’s name? Were they even considered a child? 

“She took you there didn’t she.” It was more of a statement than anything else. 

Leonard looked back toward the screen.

“You can tell me, son, I might not be… her, but you can tell me anything.” The unspoken word, the unspoken name. 

Leonard wanted so badly to turn to his mother for that distinctive motherly comfort, but he couldn’t do that. 

Leonard took in a deep breath and looked down into his lap. At the PADD he synced his books up to and was now studying for his class the next day. Mostly location of bones, muscle groups, and organs. How could humans live with one heart? It was nearly maddening when one of Leonard’s hearts stalled. “I don’t have anything to tell you,” groused Leonard. Lying was easy even if his papa knew it was a lie.

He glanced up quickly to correct himself because he did have some news for his papa. “I have a date this weekend.”

David’s dark grey brows rose up to his hairline. “Male?” asked David with a small tilt of his head and intrigue in his tone. 

Leonard felt his cheeks heat up. “Female,” grumbled Leonard as he tried to hide his growing blush from his papa. “Her name is Jocelyn .” 

David made a hmmmm noise. A noise he usually made when withholding information about the future.

Leonard’s future.

Leonard nearly hated when he did that. When he danced around information he had about Leonard’s future, but Leonard was also thankful for it. “What’d you do today?” 

David’s head picked up and he rested his jaw in his hands. “Got a visit from my future son-in-law.”

Leonard furrowed his brow. “Donna is dating someone?”

David made that hmmm noise again, picked up some flimsies from his desk, and put on a pair of glasses. “I took the Tardis for a spin and cleaned her.” Of course David couldn’t resist the temptations of getting out there at his age. “She is appreciative and wonders when you are coming back.”

“I’m coming home for Christmas,” said Leonard with a shake of his head and a small smile. “Maybe we can have dinner sooner if nothing doctorly comes up?”

David smiled. “Sounds like a swell idea. Have fun on your date, Leonard, I love you.” 

Leonard scoffed a little and rolled his eyes. “I love you too, dad.” He ended the call and released a sigh. Back to anatomy.

…

 

“You lied to me,” said David McCoy over the next video chat.  Not the next next video chat because they had talked before than about Leonard’s girlfriend, but this had been the video chat after that. The video chat after the ending days of Tarsus IV. “The Tardis took you to Tarsus IV.” David was in a pristine looking clinic on some star base. Leonard knew he was treating the kids of the tragedy. 

Leonard also knew he could know nothing about those kids. 

His papa wasn't technically breaking patient confidentiality by pointing out his son had been on Tarsus IV.

Leonard glanced away from the screen. “I didn't say she didn't take me to Tarsus IV.” 

David took in a deep breath and pressed his hands to his face. “Have I told you I'm proud of you recently?”

Leonard leaned back in the library chair and smiled slightly. “I gotta get back to studying, dad.” 

“I'm proud of you and I love you. So much,” blurted David. “So much, Leonard.” 

Something about that weighed heavy on Leonard’s hearts, but he brushed it off. He said, “I'm love you too dad.” Maybe it was the loss of his mother still weighed heavily on David McCoy. 

Leonard didn't feel the need to ask. He ended the call. 

“Leonard,” hissed someone from a few tables away. 

Leonard glanced up quickly and saw Rastre waving xyr arms at him. ‘What?’ Leonard signed, a little rusty with his sign language. 

Rastre clearly was not pleased with his use of sign to keep the library quiet, even if Leonard had been talking a moment ago, but it was hard to tell when xe were pouting. 

Leonard raised an eyebrow at xem. 

With an exaggerated movement Rastre rose from xyr seat and came over. ‘Are you…’ xe frowned, scrunched up xyr face, and paused xyr clawed fingers as xe struggled to think of the movements of the next word. Xe eventually threw xyr hands up and said, “Are you and Jocelyn  free tonight? I'm meeting this guy named Sirius, like the star, and I'm a little uncomfortable meeting him alone and might’ve asked him if it was okay if we met with another couple.” 

Leonard squinted at xem, but sighed. “I’ll call Jocelyn and let her know.”

Rastre grinned wide. “Thank you. I'll message you with the location later.” 

…

 

The location turned out to be some club with dancing lights and too loud of music. Which is just what Leonard needed, sarcastically and honestly. 

It was a nice break from studying. A nice break from the unspoken between his papa and him. A nice break from the swirling memory of burning consoles and a man with blue eyes. Leonard swore he’d strangle that man if he ever met him again. 

Which was a possibility. 

Rastre turned out to not need much of a wingman with Sirius, who turned out to be some sort of space bat with human-ish features. 

Which was fine that gave Leonard time with Jocelyn. Time to dance with her. Time to devote time into their still budding romance. “This is nice,” commented Leonard. 

Jocelyn shouted over the music and Leonard still could barely hear the ‘what’. 

He smiled down at her and shrugged. “Nevermind.” 

Jocelyn shouted again.

Leonard simply smiled and gave her a kiss.

…

 

“Ain’t you too old to get married?” teased Leonard as he smiled at his father who was dressed up in a suit. 

“I thought you liked Audrey,” muttered David with a smile as he tightened his bow tie. 

Leonard did like her. She was a great woman, had been single for most of her life, was in her early forties, and moved next to David before Leonard had come back to town. Leonard had suspected they were dating even then.

She was a native New Zealander and had slowly been creeping her things into the McCoy house. An old sign language teacher.

Leonard liked her, but she was no replacement for his own mother. 

She didn’t try to be. She had made Leonard quilts and yammered on and on about a lovely man that had visited David on few occasions. 

“I do like her,” said Leonard. “Do I gotta start calling her mom?” 

David frowned. “You don’t have to.” 

Leonard bit at his lower lip and shrugged. “Mummy, maybe?” The accent of his previous body pushed its way through his throat and he grinned wide.  

David flinched at this word. “Whatever you want to do.” 

Leonard shifted his hip and cocked his head. “I think I'll call her My step-mum.”

...

 

“Where are you even taking me?” asked Leonard, he was blindfolded which gave him a small pitter patter of anxiety. He’d been back in Georgia working on his residency for about a year and of course still dating Jocelyn much to his aging papa’s ‘hmmm’ing.

It was clear David was at least a little displeased with the relationship, but not at all about to rain on his son’s parade of affectionate hand holding and kisses. 

“It’s a surprise, Len,” muttered Jocelyn with a smile to her tone. 

Surprises and Leonard didn’t quite get along all that often. “A surprise?” 

“Yes,” hissed Jocelyn even as they came to a halt outside of some place that smelled of coffee and various treats. 

“A coffee shop?” guessed Leonard as he fingered at the blindfold. 

Jocelyn slapped at his hand. “A special coffee shop.” She did undo his blindfold and it took Leonard a few seconds for his eyes to re-adjust to the lighting. 

“An art museum?” asked Leonard with a raised brow. 

Jocelyn rolled her eyes and escorted Leonard inside.

He doubted they were dressed for a fancy art museum, but a lot of the people in the museum were dressed in street clothes, so, he wouldn’t let that little accelerated heart rate get to him. “Why’d you bring me here?” 

“I thought you’d like to get away for a little bit and look at art.” She pulled him toward the coffee shop section of the museum though. It was settled right outside of the Post Reform Vulcan section. “Get some coffee.” She sat them down at a booth and held his hand while twirling her hair. “Talk.” 

Leonard squinted a little at her, but shrugged. “All right,” began Leonard turning her hand over to rub at the palm of it and then he looked up at her. “What’d you wanna talk about?” 

“We should get a house,” rattled Jocelyn, she talked, but something had caught Leonard’s attention. 

A painting off in the near distance of a tastefully nude model, draped in a red silky sheet, sultry blue eyes cast off to the side, golden hair, and his pouty pink lips were stretched into a small smirk as if someone was just off to the side watching this get painted.  

He rose to his feet, unaware of Jocelyn trying to grab his attention, as he was compelled toward the painting. Wanting to confirm and deny all at the same the familiarity of the subject. 

There was a plaque next to the painting, it was dated for a time era just outside of the reform period, but the subject was too un-vulcan. Too not of that time. Sun kissed, devilish hair, and all too round ears.

It only confirmed that unanswered question Leonard always held in the back of his head and white hot rage surged up from his gut. “Fuck,” he hissed. 

There was a tiny plaquared next to the painting. An explanation of the piece and the name of it.  

‘The Fairy Puck’ by Anonymous discovered by—

“Len,” hissed Jocelyn as she broke him from his thoughts with a firm squeeze to his shoulder. 

Leonard broke his eyes away from the painting and blinked down at her. 

“Are you okay?” she asked. 

Leonard looked back at the painting and frowned. He’d meet this guy. In the future or the past. He’d meet him and he wasn’t sure anymore if he was going to give him hell. 

He could change that though. He might still have time to change it. “A house is a big commitment.” He looked down at her. 

“It is,” said Jocelyn with the smallest smile. “I’m committed to you, Leonard McCoy.” She dropped down onto her knee and smiled up at him. “What do you say?” 

Leonard blinked slowly and felt his hearts nearly drop. “Well, I say yes.”

…

 

It was the summer of 2255. Balancing a marriage for four years and still continuing to work on his residency was challenging for Leonard. To add to it he was nervous for the baby they’d be bringing into the world in a couple of months.

He’d been steadily drinking on his days off, and made mistakes he couldn’t correct on his work days. He couldn’t cure death and he definitely couldn’t cure the unknown diseases that seemed to be plaguing the clinic.  Afflicting both the very young and the very old. He’d recently gained a young terran female as a patient and he already knew she wouldn’t make it to august. 

Sure he tried to cope by talking to his dad every day, meeting for dinners with his step mom, but that attention did not extend to Jocelyn. Not that Leonard didn’t try in the span of their marriage to communicate with her. 

Something had just shifted since the pregnancy and it wouldn’t shift back. 

Leonard could tell both of them were done, but no one had made the next move. 

“How did you and mama do any of this?” asked Leonard from across the old kitchen table that was slewn with papers and various doodads his papa had collected over the past few years. 

He knew if Audrey came home these things would be cleaned up in a jiffy, but it was nice to see the gifts David had gotten from patients. 

There was even a crude drawing from one of his old patients thrown out in the middle of it. A crayon colored mess of a blue box. Leonard picked up the crayon doodle and paused as he caught sight of a paper below that. 

It looked like a hospital form. 

“Did you go to the hospital?” asked Leonard with a furrowed brow and a glance toward his papa. 

David McCoy sighed heavily and sank into the kitchen chair across from Leonard. “I guess it would be better to tell you sooner rather than later.” His voice sounded weak, shaken with old age, and something else. 

Leonard felt a cyclone twist his stomach as he dropped the child’s drawing and went to fidget with the gold band on his right pinky finger. The blue stone catching the light every other rotation it made across his finger. “What’s going on dad?” he asked, slow, and all too cautious. 

David McCoy sighed heavily and rested his hands on the table top. “I’m not getting any younger,” said David. 

Which of course his current body wasn’t getting any younger, he’d been in a stationary life for a long time, Leonard felt in his gut what his papa meant, but Leonard said, “You can just regenerate.” He could hear the slow build of pleading in his voice.

David’s lips twitched into a soft slow smile. “I know this isn’t easy for you, loss is never easy. Especially when you live as many lifetimes as we do.” 

Leonard felt his throat tighten with the build up of sorrow in his chest. Leonard stuttered and clasped his hands together as he leaned forward over the table. “Y… y… you can just regenerate. You aren’t that old. You can’t be that old.” 

David placed his hands over Leonard’s. 

Leonard tore his hands away, his breath quickened, and he took in his papa’s aged face. The stark grey hair that barely clung to the edges of his scalp. The wrinkled up eyes, neck, mouth, body, and shaking of his hands. 

Leonard ran a hand through his hair and scrubbed at his face when he realized he had started to cry. “You can’t die,” said Leonard, broken, and nearly a plead. As if he were silently begging for David to be lying. “You can’t.” 

When David reached out his hand again Leonard didn’t break away. “I don’t want to die painfully, Leonard.” 

Not many people wanted to. Leonard swallowed thickly and blinked at the tears in his eyes. “How long?” 

David’s face grew grim with a frown. “I won’t live until august.”

Leonard ripped himself away from his father. “That’s… What? two months?”

David sighed. “Shorter.” 

Leonard’s gut twisted up further. “Shorter?” questioned Leonard with a bit to his lower lip. “Why shorter?” 

David slipped his hands down into his lap, his gaze didn’t meet Leonard’s, and his words were nearly a whisper. “Because I want you to help me before it gets too painful.” 

Leonard swallowed, in hopes of clearing up the nausea that started to spin in his gut. “You want me to kill you?” Leonard’s voice broke, he covered his mouth with his hand, and shook his head. 

“I’m going to die anyways, Leonard, I’d rather you make it easier on me,” pleaded David. 

Leonard’s hand trembled against his mouth and he stared at his father. “No,” hissed Leonard. “No!”

…

 

He should have waited. Leonard should have waited. Waited before committing to his father’s wishes. 

Fuck that stubborn old man. Leonard scrubbed hard at his face and threw the papers on the table to the floor. 

He replaced the papers with bottles. He stopped talking to his wife. He stopped talking to anyone really. He just worked, came to his childhood home, drank, and then slept. Granted he wasn’t alone, but Donna and his step-mum weren’t doing any better. 

Sure Audrey didn’t turn to liquor like Leonard , but played bridge, and card games with the neighbors.

She had probably had more time to grieve. 

Accepted David’s fate long before Leonard had even known about it. 

Then there was Donna who quilted.

She’d tried to get Leonard out of the house, out of his depressive funk, but Leonard always declined. More lost in his work and drowning in drink.  

Human alcohol was not that effective in small doses. His old body had hated the stuff and his new body seemed to take it down easy.

“Is this really the way you want to live your life?” asked Donna as she dropped down to the sofa by Leonard’s feet. “Doesn’t that stuff make being a doctor hard?”

She had found Leonard slumped against the sofa with a bucket on the floor and a bottle of whiskey in his hand. It was his day off and they had a funeral to attend to after bridge.

“I’m not a good doctor anyways,” grumbled Leonard, throwing back another swig of whiskey. 

The liquor didn’t hit his lips, in fact the bottle had been snatched out of his hand by the woman he had been calling his step-mum.

The only reason he had been drinking now was because the divorce papers had come in the mail.

“You are a great doctor, now get up and get dressed,” said his step-mum in a kind yet firm tone. “Wear something nice and eat a mint.” 

Leonard got to his feet, a little wobbly, but he wasn’t too impaired. 

Leonard didn’t even know if he had nice clothes, he took the stairs two at a time, and stumbled into his room.

David McCoy wouldn’t have wanted a funeral, but that wasn’t really who a funeral was for right? A funeral wasn’t for the dead man. It was for the living who needed confirmation of the dead. For the living who needed closure. 

He’d gone to the funeral and sat stony faced in the uncomfortable chairs while Donna shared some really fantastic speech about their father. A religious type of thing that nearly made Leonard want to laugh. 

He could not confirm or deny if laughter was his way of grieving. Of avoiding the eye burning tightness in his chest he knew would lead to tight throated sobs and crying. 

He went home and knew he'd be alone. 

Donna went out to deal with this day in her own way and his step-mum was off playing bridge with her friends.

He fell into his bed.

No one judged him for his ill attempt at coping except for himself. 

He understood he couldn’t drink himself to death because that’d be a stupid way to die, and a stupid waste of a regeneration. 

He rose to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom. 

His resolve finally broke as emotion rushed from his eyes and ripped up his throat. He smacked his head against the mirror. Not hard enough to break it, but enough for it to hurt just a little. 

It wasn't enough though. 

He leaned back to look at himself.

For the second time in his life Leonard punched a mirror just to have it splinter across his face and dig into his knuckles. He was angry… No not angry. Upset. Upset with himself. 

It was his fault David McCoy even died. He should have waited for that damn cure. 

He smacked his head against the unbroken section of mirror and rubbed at his face with his blood stained hands. 

He washed them, scrubbed the glass out, and chewed at his lower lip. 

His fault his marriage was fucked up. Had fucked up. 

He looked back up at his reflection from the scruffness of his unshaved face, the stiffness of his sweater that wreaked of whiskey, and finally to his green jacket that had a knitted inner collar that brushed against his neck. 

His fault that he would likely never see his daughter come into this world. 

If Jocelyn had her way. 

What does he even have anymore? 

That’s when the nearly forgotten noise rang in his ears. 

The Tardis. 

Leonard whirled around his bathroom and stormed into his bedroom. She stood there in her blue glory with her shining beacon. 

His socked feet curled into the soft carpet of the room. “You’re not going to take me into space are you?” Sure once he had enjoyed his escape in the stars, but now the thought of going up there gave him a mighty strong sickness. 

Her doors snapped open, beckoning Leonard inside, and of course he entered. 

He couldn’t resist her call to mystery.

She looked different. Clean, used by his father in the past years, warm lighting, brighter, and yet still dim. 

“Should I get shoes?” asked Leonard out into the vastness of the console room. 

She made a noise. 

Leonard rushed back out into his room and grabbed his boots. “Do I need alcohol?” 

She made another noise.

He frowned. “What do you mean I can get it on the way?” 

She didn’t respond. 

Leonard grabbed his flask from his dresser, stuffed it in his pocket, and walked forward back through her doors. “Where are you going to take me?” 

Her screens lit up. 

He approached the console and jerked the view screen forward to read their destination. “Iowa. Riverside. 2255.” 

Leonard furrowed his brow. “You’re taking me to a bar?”

The screen automatically corrected itself. 

Leonard threw the Tardis console a look that could read ‘really?’. “The shipyard. At seven thirty in the goddamn morning?” 

She made a noise and Leonard groaned. 

“Tomorrow morning?” asked Leonard. “... What am I doing in Riverside?” 

The Tardis was eerily quiet for a minute. Then she made a set of deeper noises. 

Leonard grabbed the flask from his jacket and downed at least a decent amount of it. “Well fuck!” he shouted. Looks like the Tardis was going to be taking him to space after all. Just in an unorthodox manner. 

Join Starfleet or get shit faced drunk while his ex wife took everything that wasn’t nailed down… Leonard swallowed against the burn of his throat. “... Starfleet.” He decided. He pulled at switches, and pushed in buttons. “Goodbye Georgia.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are well appreciated! Hope this chapter was not too hurtful. The good hurt. the bad hurt. the hurt hurt. 
> 
> ehhhheheh... Anyways until next time! *wave wave*


	5. Ghost of Utopia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leonard is having such a bad first day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Smoking, swearing, drinking, and non sexual nudity.

Leonard traded one death trap for another, not that the Tardis wasn’t present, he was sure she was cloaked around here somewhere, and if not she’d eventually find her way back home or to wherever they’d put Leonard. 

“So, uh, you looked like you wanted to murder me,” said the annoying little idiot the lieutenant had shoved him next to after they’d held up the shuttle craft’s departure with a fantastic display of screaming.

Leonard had nearly wrapping his hands around the guy’s throat. Honestly, Leonard still wanted to wring this guy’s neck. 

“Still want to,” hissed Leonard. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but whatever. The shuttle jerked and Leonard dug his nails into the seat. God if this flight got any bumpier he was really going to throw up.  

The idiot next to him made a hmm noise and rubbed at his bruised up face. “You know shuttle crafts are pretty safe.”

Leonard let out a broken chuckle. “Safe?” he asked, he swung his head toward the man he’d held a petty grudge over for ten years, and suddenly realized this man was younger than the one who had shoved him off into an abyss. “Don't pander to me, kid,” groused Leonard, “One tiny crack in the hull, and our blood boils in thirteen seconds. A solar flare might pop up and cook us in our seats. And wait 'til your sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles. See if you're still so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding.” 

Those blue eyes trained themselves on Leonard. Sure this guy was younger, but that didn’t stop Leonard’s blood from boiling at the sight of him. “I’m Jim Kirk,” said Jim with an extended hand. 

Leonard could feel his shoulders pull stiff. _ Kirk _ . Like George Kirk. That had been all over the news once too and Leonard could remember questioning his mother about if that man really had to die. Leonard tore his eyes off of Jim and scowled. “I didn’t ask for your name.” 

Jim made this little noise beside him, something like a laugh, and then said, “Fair.” He then shifted in his seat and asked, “What brings you to starfleet if you are afraid of space?” 

Leonard snapped his head back over toward Jim. “I said nothing about being afraid of space.”

Jim tilted his head in this little movement that made Leonard think this man was just as much of a little shit as the man who called him Bones. “You’re ripping up the chair and look like you are going to throw up.” His head lowered and his eyes softened. “So why Starfleet?” 

Leonard scowled and crossed his arms over his chest. He could feel his flask in his pocket. “My ex-wife is taking the whole planet in the divorce.” He decided he wanted to take a drink, and started to take his flask out. “All I have left are my bones.” He uncapped the flask and took a swig. He thought for a little bit and offered the flask to Jim. “Why are you going into the fleet?”

Jim took the flask eagerly and looked off toward the side. “Well,  _ Bones _ .” 

Leonard could nearly feel his hearts stop.  _ Fuck _ . 

“Would you believe me if I told you it was either this or jail?” asked Jim with a chuckle. 

Leonard narrowed his eyes at Jim. “I would,” he hissed and took his flask back when Jim held it out. “Please call me Leonard.” 

Jim gasped and put a hand over his heart. “I think I like  _ Bones _ better.”

Jim would.

Leonard’s scowl deepened and he took another swig of liquor. 

“Do you have a last name?” asked Jim. 

Leonard sucked on the inside of his cheek and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “McCoy.” He looked at Jim. 

Jim’s teasing nature fell away in an instant. His face dropped into a frown. “Oh,” mouthed Jim in a bare whisper. He settled back into the chair and linked his hands together in his lap. 

Leonard’s stomach lurched with another bump. “I might throw up on you,” groaned Leonard. 

Jim snapped out of whatever funk he was in with a high pitched squeal. “Why me?” 

Leonard smirked to himself. “Because I'm petty.”

… 

 

Leonard had thrown up on Jim after a few more jolts of the shuttle craft, but honestly he could care less. At least he was off the shuttle now, going through the motions of signing up for fleet classes, orientation, and setting up the continuation of his residency. This time at Starfleet Medical.  

_ At least I’ll never see him again _ , and even with that thought, Leonard knew deeper in his gut that it was inevitable. 

Fate, destiny, all of these things had plagued Leonard’s mind before, and now he was beginning to think that they weren’t a bunch of hogwash.  

He’d finished the tour of Starfleet Medical and headed toward the dorm building he’d be calling home. 

He took the stairs needing to stretch his legs, walked the hall in search of the door, when he arrived at the door, a corner room one that would have a balcony, he punched the code in twice (as he had gotten it wrong the first time), and then scanned his ID. 

The door gave way with a release of suction. 

Leonard flinched at that. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to get past that sound. He walked down the length of the translucent divider and wondered if he would have a roommate. He also wondered what the dorm even looked like. If it was basic two beds, shared kitchen in the common room, shared bathroom space, or if it would look more like an apartment. 

The cut in the divider lead Leonard into a living space. There was a kitchen to the left nearly taking up all the space of the divider and to the right there was a living area. It had a simple looking couch. Red, velveteen , and shoved against the wall. 

There were books thrown all over, some already organized on the provided shelves, as if his dorm mate were already there. Making themselves at home. 

“A bookworm,” said Leonard aloud. Trying to determine if he’d get along with the person who these things belonged to. 

The small balcony door was slid open for some fresh air from the mesh screen. 

Leonard approached the door slowly and lowered his fleet items to the couch. 

There were boots and clothes hanging from the railings as if these things had just been soaked. 

A door opened and his roommate groaned, “Sorry for the mess someone threw up on me.” 

A shiver ran up Leonard’s spine as he turned around. 

The bathroom door was opened, steam flowed out, and in front of the open door stood Jim. 

Jim's lower half was wrapped up loosely in a towel and another towel covering his head as he partly dried his hair. 

“Well, fuck,” hissed Leonard. 

Those movements of hair drying stopped.

Jim whipped the towel off his head and stared at Leonard like a deer in headlights. “Oh. Hi. Fuck. Uh.” Jim’s cheeks were flaming red as he slowly backed away, sputtering, and attempting to form any words. Those words never came as Jim bolted from his spot outside the bathroom to whatever rooms remained.

Leonard plopped down onto the couch to curse out whatever deity let them be roommates. He groaned loudly and let his head fall backward so he was looking at the ceiling.

Yeah. Leonard was starting to believe in destiny. 

He heard Jim’s bare feet against the wood floors before he acknowledged the other man’s existence in the room. 

“McCoy, right?” asked Jim in a bare whisper. 

Leonard shifted his head just enough to see Jim had at least thrown some clothes on. Even if it was just an oversized navy blue hoodie with shiny silver dangles and a pair of star shorts that showed off his boxers. Which had cats on them. “What?” Leonard snapped. 

Jim didn't flinch just pulled the hood up and chewed on his thumb in thought. “I'm sorry about your dad. He was a really good man from what I can remember.” 

Leonard frowned. How had Jim known David? “How can you possibly know who my dad was?” 

Jim’s nail snapped with a hard bite. “I don't know you well enough to disclose that information.” 

“Well, then how do you know me?” asked Leonard with a narrow of his eyes. 

Jim frowned. “I can't disclose that either.” 

That was really pissing Leonard off. Looks like they were both clueless into how they knew one another. “Can't or won't?”

Jim leaned against the wall, settling his weight on his right foot while he shifted his left, then he crossed his arms, and pouted. “Won't. Not something I talk about.” 

“What can be so bad you don't talk about it?” asked Leonard without much thought. 

Jim’s eyes darkened. “You're the doctor you tell me what patients don't want to talk about.” 

Leonard furrowed his brow and then realization dawned. Trauma. Jim knew Leonard from a traumatic experience. “I'm sorry, Jim.” 

Jim shrugged. “Whatever.” He collected the books up from the room and started to put them on the various shelves. 

Leonard didn't move for a while. Not until the sun began to set behind the building. “You wanna get your clothes and I can order a pizza or something?” 

Jim had put all the books away long ago and he was now just spread out on the floor playing some chess game on his PADD. “Pizza sounds great.”

Leonard got up from the couch. “You allergic to anything?” 

Jim typed something up quick and sent it off with a whoosh. “Mangos, pork, shellfish, milk to a point, chocolate to a point, kiwi fruits, uhhhhh…” 

Leonard held up his hand to stop him there. “I'll message your mother for a list.” 

“My parental unit,” said Jim looking up from the game. “They are my parental unit.” 

Leonard felt heat rise to his face. “Oh. My bad. Your parent. I'll get a list from your parent.” 

Jim nodded. “You could have just asked me what I wanted on my pizza.” 

That heat only got worse. “What do you want on your pizza?” snipped Leonard. 

Jim’s fingers moved on the PADD. “Pineapple.” 

A noise of disgust unearthed itself from Leonard’s throat. “You're one of those people?” He'd order it though.

Jim grinned wide without removing his eyes from the PADD’s screen. “Oh you know I’m one of those people.” 

Leonard rolled his eyes and went to order it.

After he ordered it he returned to the living space to find Jim had moved to the couch and had an earbud wrapped delicately around one ear while the other was in his ear.

“What are you doing anyways?” He was curious with why Jim was playing a computerized chess game when he swore he saw the other unpack a chess board after he was done with the books. 

“Playing chess with my friend,” responded Jim as he brought his feet up onto the couch. “He is winning.” 

Leonard made a hmmm noise and plopped down next to Jim. “Why doesn’t he just come over and play a game with you?” 

Jim took a while to respond, in fact he lifted up his head, and blinked. “I think he lives on Vulcan.” 

There was a pause as Jim threw the PADD into his lap. “You didn’t tell me you moved to San Francisco!” 

Leonard flinched back with his eyebrows raised. 

Jim picked back up the PADD and while addressing Leonard he said, “I’m sorry I’m talking to him, he just told me he has lived on Terra for the past, like, six years. Holy shit.” 

To the PADD Jim shouted, “I could have visited you!” 

Jim pouted as the Vulcan on the opposite end of the game responded. 

Probably with cold logic. 

“FUCK … I’ve known you for eight years, Spock! Eight years! Six of those years you’ve been within a shuttle ride away?” Jim made a few more noises that didn’t quite make sense. 

“I’ll leave you two alone,” said Leonard with a small squint. “And come back.” 

Jim smacked the PADD into his lap again and trained wild blue eyes onto Leonard. “You’re fine, Bones.” 

That nickname grated on Leonard’s nerves. It just reminded him that at some point this man would be the death of him. “You sure?” 

Jim held up the PADD as a bold ‘CHECKMATE’ ran across the screen. “I’ll talk to you later, Spock, you aren’t escaping this! T’PALLA ISN’T ESCAPING THIS EITHER!” He slammed the PADD down and remained quiet for some time.

Leonard sucked on the inside of his cheek and crossed his leg over the other. He was about to ask Jim a few questions, but found he couldn’t exactly figure out what to talk about. 

Thankfully, Jim took over. “Vulcans are surprisingly secretive.” 

“It’s a little surprising that a guy like you is even friends with a Vulcan,” hissed Leonard without a thought and he immediately regretted the way that had sounded. 

“Honestly? So am I,” said Jim, dejected. “But they are very good friends.”

So Jim had more than one Vulcan as a friend. Which one of them would paint the painting Leonard saw in the gallery? How would Jim get to Vulcan’s past in the first place? Leonard got up from the couch to go out onto the small balcony.

The night was alight with twinkling stars nearly clouded by the light pollution of the city, other than that Leonard was greeted with a clear sky, and a nearly full moon. 

Leonard could admit that space was beautiful for something so deadly. 

“Bones?” asked Jim in a small voice. 

Leonard flinched, his arms flopping down to rest on the railing. “What?” asked Leonard, a little snippy. 

There was a pause as Jim came out to join him, his hood still pulled over his head as he leaned against the sliding doors, and the night illuminated his peeks of skin. He was sucking on his cheek and had his eyes downcast. Whatever he wanted to say was difficult.

Leonard squinted his eyes at the human. “Is this going to cause you mental distress?” asked Leonard. 

Jim’s eyes flickered up. The pupil lost in the wide blue. “I…” 

Leonard turned toward him fully and placed a gentle touch to Jim’s arm. “Yes or no are fine enough answers, Jim.” 

Jim looked at where Leonard was touching him and then back up to Leonard’s face. 

Leonard removed his hand from the area and looked back out into the stars. “I use to love space,” said Leonard, maybe a little distraction from Jim’s question. “Mama would share stories about the stars, places she had been, people she met, and I use to want to be like her. Go out there and explore the unknown.” 

“Why are you afraid of space?” asked Jim, his voice a little shaken, and small. 

Leonard frowned. “My dad and I were playing basketball when I was around nine or ten.” He looked at Jim. “Dad shot the ball into a tree, I told him I’d get it.” He looked back out toward the stars. Thought about what type of man Jim was out there. Why he’d stepped in front of an unknown beam of light just to save a man who didn’t know him. “That tree was tall. I climbed so high and figured I could touch the stars from up there.” He’d known that wasn’t how the sky worked, but still. “I got the ball down, but I also came crashing down. Broke my leg. Decided space wasn’t gonna be for me.”

Then there had been the Tardis. A gift from his mother after her passing and he couldn’t pass that up. He’d thought the fear of space and dying out in it had been gone, but it had just been buried under the pain of his loss. 

“And yet you are in Starfleet,” said Jim the railing creaking with added weight.

Leonard looked over at him. 

Jim had a soft smile on his face, likely lost in his own thoughts, and then that smile was gone with a glance up into the sky. “Your dad.” A small smile spread on Jim's face. One that didn't reach his eyes. “He was something.”

Leonard pushed off of the railing and looked to Jim with crossed arms. “My dad did a lot of things for a lot of people.” 

“I'm sorry you had to lose him,” said Jim, still hanging over the railing, and looking up at the stars. 

There was an extended period of silence. Leonard sucked on his cheek and looked off into the living space. “I'm sorry you had to lose yours.” Leonard didn't spare Jim another glance as he walked back into the living space. 

Shortly after Leonard had walked inside there was a metallic CLINK followed by the distinctive rasp of a lighter being flicked behind him. 

He turned his head. 

Jim had a cigarette perched between his lips, a lighter in his hand, the flame shaded by his other hand, and once the cigarette was lit that lighter got put on the flat top of the railing. 

Leonard’s gaze lingered on the lighter and then the cigarette. “Smoking will kill you.” 

Jim sputtered and nearly dropped the cigarette. “It's weed,” hissed Jim. 

Leonard raised a brow at him and slipped further inside. “You know we get drug tested right?” 

There was another pause. 

Jim hissed, “Shut up, Bones.”

...

 

Leonard knew Jim was on the fast track to becoming a captain, so, he was confident that they would only have one or two chance encounters. At least he was hopeful of that happening.

This lack of Jim during day one of physical training week solidified Leonard’s confidence in their encounters being strictly confined to the apartment. 

That was until he got a call from the medical building from one Doctor Philip Boyce. 

“I have a patient here who only wants to be treated by you,” said Boyce over the call. 

Leonard frowned at that. “What do you mean?” His gut told him it was Jim. That little asshole.

“Cadet Kirk will not let any of my staff get close to him,” Boyce sighed heavily, “he is asking for Doctor McCoy.” 

Leonard’s stomach cramped up. “I'll be right over,” said Leonard and be hung up. 

He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. He needed a damn drink and a new roommate. 

When Leonard arrived at the medical building Jim looked absolutely fine. Infact Jim was flirting with Nurse Chapel.  

Why in god’s name had Leonard been called?

“Doctor McCoy,” greeted Nurse Chapel. “I was keeping Cadet Kirk company until you arrived.”

Leonard approached the nurse, eyed Jim weerily, and then focused on Nurse Chapel. “Why exactly am I here? Not that I’m complaining about getting out of physical training.” He had been hunched over a garbage can minutes before the call, so he was thankful to be inside, and not suffering from heat stroke like most of the other cadets would likely be coming in for. 

Chapel looked from Leonard to Jim and then back to Leonard. “Cadet Kirk was refusing a physical examination. Doctor Boyce asked him if he would be comfortable with a different doctor doing the exam.” Chapel put her hands together and flicked them in Leonard’s direction. “Cadet Kirk said he wanted you.”

Leonard scowled at Jim. 

The idiot hat the audacity to flash a big innocent grin. 

“Physical exam?” asked Leonard to no one in particular. 

Chapel handed Leonard a PADD with Jim’s medical file on it. “Good luck. He wouldn’t even let me draw any blood without hissing like a cat.” Chapel then left. 

Leonard was left with Jim in the middle of the hall. 

Jim avoiding direct eye contact as Leonard glared into his very soul or tried to. It wasn’t exactly possible from this far away to get into Jim’s chaotic head. 

What in god’s name was Leonard getting himself into? 

Jim shifted his shoulders, with his shoulders back he walked into the exam room without initiative from Leonard, and leaned his back against the exam table. His lumbar region squished against the solid build of the table. 

A scowl found itself permanently plastered onto Leonard’s face as he walked in behind Jim and shut the door. 

It was silent for sometime as Jim started to remove his shirt. 

Leonard twitched, bounced on his toes, and fixed his gaze onto Jim. “What in God’s name do you think you’re doing?” hissed Leonard. 

Jim paused with his arms twisted in the shirt above his head. “Taking my shirt off? I need to do that for a physical, right? It has been forever since I had one.”

Leonard turned his attention to the PADD and Jim was right. He hadn’t had a physical exam since he was maybe fourteen. “How’d you get past that in school?” He looked back up at his patient. 

Jim had his shirt wrapped around his neck now and was sitting on the table. “Needed a physical every six years for school. Fourteen to eighteen is only four years.” 

“What about a primary physician?” asked Leonard with a grit to his words. 

Jim squirmed and rolled his neck. “Didn’t have one.” 

Which flabbergasted Leonard. Who had Jim seen regularly from fourteen to his current age? How old was Jim even? He looked back down at the medical file.

 

James Tiberius Kirk. 

Male. 

Born 2233.4

 

Twenty two. Jim was twenty two years old. 

“Well you are due for a full physical then…” Leonard furrowed his brow as he scanned the documents further. Most of the file was censored or locked to even Leonard. He looked back up at Jim and furrowed his brow. Jim’s file was a mystery. There were the usual doctors visits up to the blocked out portion of the file and a few after. 

Bouts of bronchitis, a few broken bones, infections, and notes from previous doctors that had seen Jim. 

Very uncooperative, said one comment from a doctor back in Riverside. 

Prone to infection and bone fractures, said another comment. 

Smiles when avoiding a subject, but a very good patient, said one comment by David McCoy.

Leonard swallowed slowly.

Jim rolled his head back and stared at the ceiling with a big grin. “Yeah, I kinda got that when I was told to come to medical today.”

“Too bad you got high last night, huh?” teased Leonard with a small smirk as he set the PADD aside and eyed Jim. 

Jim laughed, a nervous type of laugh. 

“Why is part of your file inaccessible?” asked Leonard with a small squint. 

Jim’s shoulders grew stiff. “Do you have to know about that?” 

Leonard shifted and stared up at the ceiling. He wondered what Jim was so focused on up there. “If you want me to treat you, yes, I do.” Leonard bit into his lower lip when Jim had grown deathly quiet and still. “I can wai—” 

Jim interrupted and said, “Tarsus IV.” 

One of Leonard’s hearts stalled and he smacked himself in the chest to try and jump start it. He looked to Jim and felt his stomach drop. Tarsus IV. That’s why Jim knew David. He had more than likely been evaluated by David after the incident. “Oh,” he said. “Well, I'm going to need some of that unlocked.” Then he went about the physical like it hadn't even happened. Like the words Tarsus IV had never been uttered. 

“A little underweight,” said Leonard afterwards. “Your B twelve levels are horrendously low and so is your vitamin D. Which is somewhat normal for a guy from the midwest. I'm going to suggest injections for B twelve, lots of sun, and some oral pills for vitamin d.”

Jim struggled back into his shirt.

“Oh and stop doing drugs,” groused Leonard as he walked out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and Kudos are appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this chapter. *wave wave* Until next time.

**Author's Note:**

> This will not have a constant update schedule I can only work on Two big writing projects at one time (Also it is currently Inktober which is a 31 day drawing challenge thing), but! over on my [Tumblr](https://scarscarchurro.tumblr.com/)
> 
> There is a [drawing](https://scarscarchurro.tumblr.com/post/179152665796/day-17-skeletons-there-is-a-story-that-goes) that goes along with this. 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are appreciated! Thank you *finger guns away*


End file.
